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screampied · 3 months

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ALEJANDRO! — GOJO SATORU. ☆

➤ popstar!gojo masterlist

headline. after an argument regarding gojo’s career, you two take a break and it hurts. you aren’t together, so why should you care? maybe the fame is getting to gojo’s head after all. because you see him get a new assistant the very next day.

word count. 6.9k (crying)

warnings. fem! reader, popstar!gojo au, tiny angst ending, angst, unprotected, praise, dirty talk, you make up, squírting, implied multiple órgasms, overstim, dumbification, size kink, mixed feelings, impact play.

“satoru, are you even listening to me?” you furrow your brows in sheer annoyance. the popstar, more like the brat continued to look past you as he spoke. sometimes you questioned why you’d even put up with him for so long. of course, you grew a liking to him, as did he for you, maybe?

it was a brief silence and he rolls his eyes, burying his hands into his pockets. “i heard you. i just don’t care,” he replies before dramatically yawning. “i’m adding that track on the album whether you like it or not.”

you blink twice, he was so unserious. it was as if for a split second he forgot who he was.

the gojo satoru. the two of you were in public, currently outside of a shopping mall. he was secretly buying copies of his cds to get more sales before this meaningless altercation started. “i just think it’s not a good idea,” you sigh, feeling as if you probably weren’t gonna get through to him. “the label was strict on the duration, and—”

“you know what?” gojo abruptly cuts you off, trodding towards you. he leans forward, giving you a quick second glance before letting off a subtle scoff. “i can’t. we’re…this thing. whatever it is, we’re done,” and your eyes widen. him referring to whatever this thing was between the two of you as just something. perhaps it was foolish of you to think it would be something more.

without even thinking, you spit out, “fine. maybe you should get a new assistant then.”

“maybe i will, because someone doesn’t know how to fuckin' manage their client properly.”

oh.

it was an awkward dead silence after that. the awkwardness was so much, you could hear a pin drop.

as you glance up at the popstar, he looks unreadable. not a single thought through that brain of his. with hands buried in his pockets, he scoffs. “ya know how easy it is to replace you?”

“satoru, i’m trying to help you,” you furrow your eyebrows, briefly gawking around and trying not to make too much of a scene. you doubt lowering your tone a few notches would help. most likely, this little argument would be on the front headlines of tmz soon. “you don’t make the best decisions when it comes to things like this.”

“it’s gojo to you,” he rolls his eyes, and he turns his heels, staring to trod away. he pulls down his designer shades and he’s so dramatic. strutting down the sidewalk, he pulls out his phone before his lips curl into a pout. “address me right.”

you let off a sigh, purposely stepping right in front of him. he looks down at you, literally with a look of annoyance and slight vex.

“whatever, fine….gojo,” and you stare at him. honestly, the more you thought to yourself, why were you trying so hard? normal people would have taken the hint, but you…you felt the urge to keep testing his patience.

yet perhaps that wasn’t the brightest idea, because after all, you were dealing with a posh and snobby international brat. “firing me is only gonna make you look bad. besides, you know how the press-”

“princess, let me put it to you this way,” gojo mumbles, a toothpick casually sticking out near the corner of his mouth. the popstar gets right up close to you. you loathed how good he smelled—a rich cologne scent. specially, his own signature cologne from his very own brand.

the more he inches closer towards your face, the more you feel a tingly feeling creep its way inside your stomach. “i want nothing to do with you anymore, assistant,” and his voice, it had little to no emotion—you give him the same share of eye contact, trying to stand your ground but for some reason his words hit you like a gut punch.

a full blown gut punch to be exact. you’ve managed this brat for practically a various length of months, only for all it to go to waste from a stupid argument.

“you’re replaceable, and if you don’t wanna do your job then i’ll find someone else,” he shrugs, dusting off the shoulder parts of his leather bedazzled jacket. gojo tilts his head, studying your facial expression. in the midst of saying something, he continued, “besides, you said it yourself. to get myself a new assistant.”

“so you’re just throwing this all away?” you utter, a mere deadpan plastered on his face.

gojo grows quiet as you speak, yet he groans with a subtle eye roll. the secondhand embarrassment got to you too. again—why were you trying so hard? a question not ever you yourself could answer at that particular moment. “did me saying 'i love you' not mean anything?”

oh fuck.

you didn’t mean to say that. but at this particular moment, you kind of didn’t care.

maybe you were just a tad bit delusional but it couldn’t have been just you. out of all the times you spent with this popstar, getting to know him, saving him the trouble of getting himself hurt by fans….anything.

there had to be something there … right?

you did tell gojo you loved him out of the blue. just right after the grammys last week, it slipped out. one of the most embarrassing positions you’ve been in.

and the worst part was that gojo didn’t even say it back. more like he figured girls with him always said they loved him after having a mind-blowing orgasm from him. so you brushed it off, laughing it off awkwardly and he did the same. yet, you decided it’d be the smart idea and bring that simple reoccurrence up right now.

gojo runs a hand through his hair, pulling the tooth pick out of his mouth before scoffing. “not this again,” and with another sassy eye roll, he shifts his feet into the ground, “you’re not gonna win this argument, princess. it was fun, i’ll admit that.”

stupidity couldn’t have plastered on your face even more than that particular moment.

gojo left you there, unemployed and a total idiot.

for whatever reason, the strange ache in your heart tightened as you watched him walk away with that same fake-grin he’d have for the entire world to see. winking at his multiple die-hard fan girls.

although, it’s barely the next day before you spot gojo at some expensive shopping store reserved for only a-list celebrities. seeing him wasn’t what initially caught your attention, it was seeing him with another girl.

that made your eyebrows curl up into the biggest furrow imaginable. by him saying you were easy to replace, you didn’t think he’d be so quick.

giving her the exact same treatment he gave you, you nearly choke on your pretzel, observing the two of them.

gojo has an arm slung over her, his loud laughter that could be heard from just about a mile away.

was this jealousy you were feeling? it would be stupid, the two of you weren’t even together nor were exclusive—yet seeing your client, well ex-client made you feel a certain type of way. it was not to anyone’s surprise, seeing the numerous headlines of celebrity gossip headlines talk about the entire kerfuffle.

whatever happened to you…?

lots of people speculated the two of you were dating on the low, especially after what occurred at one of his most famous controversial performances. gojo fucking you whilst his mic was on the entire time. you’d probably never be able to live that down with him, neither would he to say the least.

you didn’t even know his new assistant’s name, but you already disliked her. the way she’d laugh at literally anything that came out of gojo’s mouth. he could let off an obnoxious belch and she’d think it was the most funniest thing in the world.

after a while, they end up leaving and you let off a irritated scoff.

maybe you were dramatic, but you wouldn’t lie and say that it stung a bit. the thought—no, the sheer reality of being replaced. you thought you were getting somewhere with the popstar.

out of the many myriad talks the two of you shared, including him even opening up about his past relationship—you figured maybe there was some kind of spark. but maybe, you thought wrong.

gojo said he was going to replace you, and that’s exactly what he did.

coincidentally enough though, you stayed over gojo’s penthouse the last time the two of you were together. you still had his key and forgot to give it to him. dragging your feet towards his residence, you grumbled.

how convenient.

you really weren’t in the mood to talk to him. besides from last time you could remember, he ended up ‘accidentally’ misplacing your panties too.

you decided to suck it up, making your way towards the popstar’s well kept home. you pause at the doormat that read in bold grassy letters, ‘home of a guy with a large dick’ and gibe. so unserious, to think he was one of the most popular pop artists known to date. he was always known to spend his money on the most witless things.

bawling up your fist, you prepare to knock on the front of the door. but instead, you just unlock it with the key. there’d be no point, besides, you’d be in and out, right? wrong…

because the moment you open the door, stood a real tall and shirtless satoru gojo. it was as if he knew you’d show up.

“mhm. just can’t get enough of me, huh,” gojo cocks his head towards the right, giving you a long four second glance. you felt your face get hot, the singer was in nothing more than a towel wrapped around his waist. his figure, quite slim and well built. droplets of water raced down his v-line, and you couldn’t help but sneak a long stare. “should get ya arrested for trespassin'.”

your eye twitches, finding it hard to look at him in the eye before you grumble. “i’m not stalking you, idiot. i came to give you your spare key back,” and then as he’s blankly staring at you, you halt your speech a bit before mumbling. “…and i came to get my panties back.”

“girl…huh? you’re mumbling. can’t understand ya.”

gojo sneers, and you hated how flawless his perfectly toned body was. it was distracting you, your thoughts, words, everything. the way the white towel was just barely hanging onto his waist.

his waist…so slim.

he was perfectly sculptured from his hips to further down. with a hand of his, he tugs the fabric of the towel up a bit, you were just about to spot a few specks of white hair. his happy trail, one of your favorite things about his body. how the hair just ran down and down. his sharp v-line was a force to be reckoned with. it wasn’t much a surprise that gojo was fit though, he was a trained dancer after all.

“i said,” you start to repeat yourself, trying to snap yourself out of whatever lewd trance he had you in. “…i want my panties back.”

“you came to see me jus’ to get those back?” gojo smirks, intaking a sharp breath before running a hand through his dampened hair. “is this your way of telling me you’re not wearing any panties right now?”

“i—” you utter, being cut off by mere embarrassment. gojo giggles at your lack of response, raising his head just a bit whilst awaiting your response. “can you be serious? why would i show up to your house without any underwear?”

gojo smugly grins. “you tell me. besides, what makes you think i have them?”

you glare at him and he pokes his bottom lip out. “fine, whatever. geez,” and then he moves in front of you, closing the broad door shut. you make your way inside of his doorway, awkwardly shifting your weight with your feet as he took a few steps back. “it’s in the ah…laundry room. had one of my maid’s do the load ‘n they got your stuff mixed up with mine.”

you follow gojo towards downstairs, where his huge laundry room was kept. it’s not like you had to necessarily follow him. you knew the layout of his penthouse like the back of your hand. nevertheless you were on his heels, pulling down on your skirt at the awkward silence.

was he just gonna be quiet the entire time?

him walking in front of you gave you the perfect chance to stare at his back, his back muscles specially…

it was unintentionally sexy, each step he took you watched as his muscles flex and crook together. still, he wasn’t exactly dry. it was a few leftover droplets of water racing down his back. you could make out a few scratch marks near his back as well, you were trying to remember if that was your doing or someone else.

“watch your step.”

immediately, you get cut off with gojo’s words and you fall face first into a steep like area. he groans, catching you with quick reflexes. “still so clumsy,” he mutters, and you stare up at the popstar. he returns a gaze, and then he looks away, getting you back on your feet. “c’mon..”

it was gauche—being handed your own bawled up panties. “um, thank you,” you tell him with the most somewhat neutral expression. gojo studies your eyes for a moment before nodding. the silence was killing you, and right when he was about to make his way back upstairs, you tug on his arm. “wait.”

“yeah?” he sighs deeply, bringing a hand towards his face to wipe his eyes. “did you forget something else?”

“no,” you roll your eyes, dragging your words out slowly. “you know why i really came here.”

“do i?” gojo tilts his head, leaning against the dryer. his towel hung onto his slim waist for dear life. you hated how he was playing coy, he knew the exact words that was about to go past your lips. “help me understand.”

you glare. “you don’t even like your new assistant.”

“woah now, that’s not true,” gojo brings his hands towards his hips. such sassy mannerisms, it made your eyes roll into the very back depths of your head. “for your information, i actually adore april, vivian, eh…whatever her name is.”

you deadpan, and gojo simpers. “…oh,” and his voice pitches a deep low. it makes you feel a bit of tingles in areas you’d rather not disclose. “is this your way of telling me that you miss me? you miss us?”

“obviously you don’t.” you utter, meeting straight eye contact with the popstar. the smile that lingers across his lips, he inches a bit closer towards you and it makes you nervous.

“i never said i didn’t miss you,” gojo snickers.

each inch he creates towards you, gradually closing the inelegant distance between the two of you, he brings a hand up to your face. it catches you by the upmost surprise, and he strokes a thumb against your cheek. “it’s clear you missed me though. can’t last a day without me. maybe you really are my biggest fan.”

the nerve, it made you narrow your eyes and gojo only smiles. “mhm. but fine, maybe i did miss you a little. kinda miss being put in my place if i’m being entirely honest, princess.”

you look up at him, and he’s very much serious from what you can tell. gojo’s thumb stroking against your cheek was so undeniably sensual. you intake a sharp breath, and he’s giving you an intense stare. suddenly, you felt hot and that’s when you come to the hurried realization that you were completely cornered.

you were pinned back against the front door of the dryer, he had you right exactly where he wanted you. “you didn’t have to be such an asshole, though.”

“maybe,” he says, and then you gasp once he leans right into your neck, planting a single kiss near your collarbone. you almost forgot what his touch felt like. if it was anything about gojo, it was that he could never get enough of your taste. “i didn’t mean it. i jus’ wanted to piss you off.”

“satoru—” you’d grumble, yet that’s when he softly cups your chin.

“yeah yeah. scold me later, baby,” he murmurs, and his voice was so raspy. it was as if he was longing to kiss all over you, coat your skin with a plethora of invisible markings. it’s exactly what he does. his touch felt so warm, the same smug grin never leaves his face—oh, how you hated it. although, the more you stared at his perfect lips, the more you wanted to kiss him. “you want a kiss?” he hums, as if he’s nonchalantly reading your mind again. you give him a nod, pressed right up against the cold dryer and his body—gojo swipes a thumb over your lips, inching closer and closer before he pauses. “mhm. i’ll give you a kiss if you tell me pretty please.”

you’re sending him straight daggers. as gojo presses right up against you, he’s so close that the soft fabric of the towel brushes all on your skin. it tickles, and you then feel it push up against you. his bulge, his bulge that stuck out despite having a lengthy towel shielding his pure nudity from underneath his torso. your lips quavered, desperately wanting to feel his own mouth mash against yours. “s-satoru.”

“mhm. for an assistant, ya don’t seem to like followin' instructions,” he whispers right next to your lip. the warmth of his breath wafts right beside your own lips and it makes a small whine fly right out of your mouth. “you missed me so bad. all like this for a kiss, adorable.”

“prettypleaseprettypleasee,” you’d pout, and you don’t even realize you’re pouting until he smiles, pointing it out. gojo gives in within seconds, squeezing your chin and bringing you into a deep passionate kiss.

it started slow like it always did, with that same thumb of his coolly skimming beneath your chin, you part your lips. chaste—the perfect word to describe the kiss, it was a mixture of sloppy and straight lust. gojo had a sweet taste of peppermint on his tongue, you moaned the moment he started to get handsy. a smile curls against his lips once he feels your failed attempt to yank his towel off.

gojo only then reaches down between your legs, past your skirt — pulling up your thigh, he hums right into your mouth once his fingers only feel nothing but soft skin. “ooh,” he briefly pulls away, sneaking a kiss near the inner part of your jaw. “i was right. no panties,” and then he tsks. “how unprofessional.”

“shut up,” you huff, and he lets you remove the towel. gojo’s dampened body collides against yours, and he’s almost grinding against you—you initiate the kiss this time. wrapping both arms over his broad shoulders, your tongue continued to battle for dominance with his. each nanosecond his breathing picked up, casually racing within itself. everything around you felt warm, you felt like you were floating, burning up hot, but floating.

it’s only been a day, perhaps half a day but it felt like years. you didn’t care if this made you appear to be obsessed or whatever. all you knew was that you wanted this stupid popstar.

gojo slips off a whine once he feels you reach for his length, giving him a few concise strokes. “f-fuckin’ damn, i’m a little sensitive from earlier,” and as he breathlessly speaks between kisses, gojo’s the one to grow a bit timid now and he gives you a dazed glance. “heh, don’t look at me like that. it turns me on when you’re angry at me.”

“you’re so weird,” you deadpan, and you shudder even more. feeling a hand over yours wrap around his length. gojo’s nostrils briefly flare up, and as he’s intaking a breath, he tosses the towel to the side. you glance down, staring at his bulge and it makes the popstar a bit…nervous.

“f-fuck,” he’d groan, and that’s the exact moment where out of nowhere—gojo lifts you up. he sits you on top of the lid of the dryer, spreading your legs open. with a big hand, he slowly but surely pries them open, taking a good peak between them. “such a bold girl. comin’ to see me like this,” and he presses his lips towards the inner part of your thigh. you moan, watching gojo then lap out his tongue to lick a long stripe right near the crevice of your leg. “taste just as sweet as i remember.”

“don’t tease me, ‘toru.” you’d whine, feeling him leave sloppy kisses and bites all over your thighs. he ran his tongue up your leg, stopping right once he reached near your slick entrance.

gojo hums, cerulean eyes meeting yours for a second. his gaze was forever attractive, the way his eyes would trail up and down your body. he leans up close towards between your legs, and uses two fingers to spread your folds apart. “don’t tease me ‘toruuuu, she says,” he mocks your whiney delivery, and the popstar briefly laps his tongue against your clit for about three seconds. those three seconds was enough to throw you over the edge. his tongue was so long and pretty — a pretty bright pink, and you stared at it the entire time. “hm. assistants shouldn’t be this soaked.”

“don’t e-eat me out, wait,” you breathe, grabbing a fistful of his perfect whitened strands. gojo looks at you with a pompous grin, just preparing to dig in before you pull his head up. “just fuck me.”

“well excuse me then,” he rolls his eyes, making a fake caught off guard gasp. gojo takes one look at your glistened slit, a tiny pout going against his lips. “but how else am i gonna warm up my vocals, princess?”

“…you can’t warm up your vocals by eating pussy, satoru,” you mutter, not even believing you have to say that…then again, it’s satoru gojo. you shouldn’t even be so surprised anymore. the cute scowl that plastered across his face only widened. he sits up, moving you closer towards him. you sat on the cold lid of the dryer, and you watch as he springs his cock out.

gojo grouses. “oh fineee, be boring. let me starve, whatever,” and he’s so sassy it’s cute, the way his eyebrows curl up into a furrow. his dimples press against both sides of his temples, and you gasp once he aligns himself against your sleek entrance.

“i can’t even be that mad,” he suddenly breathes, a bit of a shakiness nearing his tone. “you’re so wet f’me, damnnn,” and you bite your lip as he starts to sink himself in. his fat tip - it prods against your folds, squeezing itself inside with such ease. “missed her bad,” and he pauses, watching himself disappear inside your cunt. the loud welcoming squelch your cunt made as a response to gojo’s length was music to his ears. your legs felt like mush and he presses a hand down your thigh. “listen to her, how she talks to me all nasty.”

“h-hurry up, satoruuu,” you’d whimper, his dirty talk sending you straight shivers to roam all throughout your body. he’d always speak to your pussy as if it could talk back, one of the many filthy things he’s loved doing with you. you couldn’t wait anymore, you wanted him. one thing about gojo, he loved more than anything to take his time with you.

he wanted to make sure you felt every inch of him. your jaw dropped, feeling how thick he started to stretch you out. spurts of his own pre-cum coating all against your entrance.

he pants, starting to pant before he sinks a bit further inside of you. “uh—! don’t rush me. ‘s rude,” he creates a faux pout, and he briefly pulls out to slap his throbbing plump tip near the very front part of your entrance. he was teasing you so bad, you didn’t even register that you were laid flat on top of the machine, legs sprawled and your jaw nearly hanging. he was so big, such inches to leave you stuffed for many many for days. you hugged his cock much thanks to your walls, and gojo groans. “s-so warm..”

gojo was so hard and pent up, he gnaws on his lip before going in just a bit further. he starts to pant a bit, staring at how good you grip down on him. nice and snug, he brings a thumb towards the top part of your clit, smearing your own slick over your folds before he’s just about half way in. “you take sooo f-fuckin’ long.”

he giggles at the way your words were a bit slurred, your tummy heaved as he was gradually easing himself inside. “thought i told ya not to rush me, princess,” and you moaned once you felt him present you with an abrupt thrust that makes you jolt back—grabbing onto his arm. “mhm. what did i say last time? patience is a virgin, heh.”

“it’s virtue, you idiot.” you whined, your eyes nearly roll back from how good he splits your wetness into two. gojo was long, deliciously lengthy with such fat girth. he wasn’t particularly thick, but he had quite the height on him.

“virgin, virtue, same thing.” the popstar cheeses, and you moaned once he finally starts up a pace.

you had to cling onto his wrists, babbling off all kinds of pathetic whimpers. your sweet whines bounced off the walls—just reverberating across the entire room. you hope no one heard you.

his muscles, way near his ripped abs . . they clench and flex, and it’s so attractive. his body was almost dry, almost. however, he was just a bit damp near his happy trail and past his sharp v-line.

“f-fuckkk,” you’d swallow, barely being able to hold on. it only took a few pre-thrusts for him to figure out his pace and seconds later, you’re being ruthlessly drilled into. his hips, the way they struck into you at a sensual movement had your head spinning. nails of yours claw into his arm and he smiles, making sure to reach every spot.

regarding yesterday, gojo wasn’t necessarily lying. he didn’t mean everything he said, he just likes to talk and talk and talk.

much of that was quite apparent, and he knew you’d come running right back to him. misplacing your panties or not. although, the big question was forever a mystery with him.

…did he love you?

what do you even consider this ‘thing’ you two have? multiple unanswered ignored questions. gojo’s hips were smooth against you, jerking back and forth. he’s got a hand gripping onto your thigh as you’re sat up against the cold lid. you stupidly confessed to him, and he figured you were just saying it to say it.

unprofessional, sure. delusional, maybe…

but you knew you couldn’t be crazy. there had to be at least something between the two of you. the way he kisses you, friends don’t just do that. friends don’t kiss like that.

…is what you kept telling yourself.

his strokes had you losing your mind, sputtering nonsense—gojo watches you, and he leans up close to bring a finger towards your lips. a thumb of his pulls your bottom lip down, and he inches closer before giving you a fervent wet kiss. he ran his tongue against yours, and he was stuffing you so full that your legs merely gave out. “h-harder,” you’d whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. a smirk tugs on his lips and you spot his dimples poke out through your half-lidded peripherals. that’s when gojo then decided to deepens his hits. “harder, harder, harderrrr..”

“slower, baby yeah?” gojo teases, and he purposely brings his hips to a slowing halt.

the frown that goes against your lips was too cute. the popstar chuckles, his dick twitching inside you. he’s stirring up your insides perfectly before he stops his pace. you whine, scratching at his back this time and he hums. “ohhh. don’t like that? ‘m sorry,” he didn’t mean that apology. not in the slightest. he goes back to playing with hour bottom lip, stroking against it before sliding a finger into your mouth. “such pretty lips, so good for suckin’.”

you moaned, immediately sucking his finger before he adds another. he swabs all around your mouth before you briefly end up gagging.

“forgot how sloppy ya always get for me,” and he’s fucking you so deep, your warmth drives him wild. his base, the way it smacks and thwacks right against your entrance has your mind going in a loop. “get my fingers nice ‘n wet, good girl. coat ‘em real sweet. juuuuust like that, princess.”

his candied words, it had you pulsing.

the moment gojo starts up his vigorous pace again, you’re whimpering. he can never stand still though. one second you’re sat on top of the dryer, the next he drags you towards the cushioned sofa. you crave more of him, his dick reached all the right spot and oh, your maw was dropped.

“s-satoruuu,” you’d huff out, and he’d have you in a subtle mating press now. he’d have you on all fours, but he was a lazy man. he’d prefer to look you dead into your eyes the moment you were reaching your inevitable peak. “so d-deeeep.”

“perfect fit for you,” he murmurs in a husky rasp.

gojo’s balls deep, it’s a tight fit and he’s just ramming right into your dripping cunt. you coat him with so much of your slick, it’s messy.

exactly how he liked it too. you whine, feeling him drive such rough thrusts into you. this position, it was so lewd. the perfect angle to grab you by the chin and shove his tongue down your throat. it’s what he does too, sneaking various kisses near your lips, the very corner of your mouth, anywhere and everywhere.

gojo groans, feeling you start to grip and grasp a bit tighter against him. it’s his turn for his eyes to roll back, and he looks so pretty. your pussy’s got him in a trance. a trance he never wanted to escape out of.

“damn, y-you’re so soakin’ for me. makin’ me jus’ as messy as you, baby,” he pants, and you feel him continuously twitch inside of you. gojo lightly lifts up your leg, and he starts to nibble near your ankle. you whine, feeling yourself approach a nearby orgasm. the thought of leaving a slick mess on his cock made your mouth water.

you needed it.

he slams back into you each time, it gives you whiplash. sweetened murmurs of his name were the only words to leave past your spit-glossed lips, and you moan a drawn out, “t-think ‘m getting close, ‘toru. really close, fuckkk.”

“wait a little, princess,” he slyly remarks, and you feel his hips piston. you were dumbfounded, stupid even. his stamina, practically non existent. right when you think he’s finished he starts up again. you’re dumbly nodding your head in endorsement from the way he’s got you thumping back against the cushion. “wait for meee.” and he starts singing.

he’s mocking you, he strokes your chin before flashing you a teasing grin. it’s not funny anymore once his voice cracks and he clears his throat to play it off. “eheh.”

“i c-can’t,” you’d stammer, and you gasp once you feel a single coil within you snap. you’re an entire mess underneath him. his dick, so lengthy it made you salivate entirely. gojo reached every single orifice inside of your pussy, every edge, every corner. like most people knew the layouts of places, he knew the exact layout of your pussy. every single time. “oh my g-goddd.”

gojo’s jaw tightens, and as you’re being pummeled into the mattress. you end up squirting, gushing out so much.

gojo doesn’t realize it until he looks into your dilated irises, and pauses. “oooooh,” he purrs, his words sounding in the form of a curious question. “did you just squirt?”

silence was your answer, and he just hums. gojo stares down, bringing a thumb towards your swollen slit, massaging against the entrance and you shudder. “fuck. you fuckin’ squirter,” he coos, his voice grows a bit low, a deep deep low. you pulse, making a cute attempt to hide your face but he pulls your hands away. “awwww, baby, baby. don’t hide that face from me. i like my assistants messy anyway.”

you were drenched beneath him, gojo leans in to kiss you.

so sensual yet filled with the most passion. you whimpered, feeling his toned body rock against you. hands of yours roamed down his back, pulling him close and he allows his tongue to part right against yours. he didn’t know what it was about you but he knew for certain that you were addicting.

his taste, it was enchanted with sweetness. minty and all, you allow his tongue to ghost amongst your own — and that’s right when gojo moans into your mouth.

he’s buried deep into you, and he briefly pulls away, a pretty cobweb of glistening spit departs from your lips and he groans. “damnnn, ‘m cumming too,” and it was so abrupt. he didn’t expect it.

once goio’s load came, it was so thick.

stringy, multiple ropes shot inside you to make you permanently feel his warmth. mating press, the most perfect position if not one of the best positions to get stuffed full like this.

“s-shitttt,” he starts to whine, and it was far more then be intended for it to be. you were being pumped full of cum, it takes a lot out of him. quite literally, he pauses his hips and takes a moment.

there, you laid and lingering over you with the most feral look was gojo. his weight briefly lingers over you — and the look he’s giving you, you’re pulsing heavily. he starts heaving and heaving, beads of sweat racing down his and before he blinks. “milkin’ me s-so much,” and then be slowly lifts your leg up, throwing it over his shoulder. “still have more though. wanna see your tummy all plump. spillin’ everything out, just for me to see.”

and he does exactly what he says, gojo even pulls out just to watch his own cum spill out. it makes him pout, and he plugs his dick back inside once he starts up again. you moaned, feeling the stickiness all over your inner thighs. it was his favorite part. watching his own viscid cum run down your plush thighs, only to then shove some of it back into your folds.

the popstar was addicted to you, there was no doubt. sure, he’d be a drama queen and say he’s done with you — but you and him both knew the sheer reality. perhaps gojo shared the same feelings, he just didn’t wanna admit it.

falling in love in the entertainment industry was always a scary thing. especially for gojo. but part of you wanted to change that. if he’d let you.

gojo fucked you through numerous positions.

each one leaving you with teeth-shattering orgasms. it was never ending, it felt so good that you never wanted it to end. it was to the point where sweet cacophonies of, “s-satoruuu,” and “pleaseeee,” rang throughout his ears. only he could make you whimper out the prettiest babbles for him.

he’d have you riding him at this point, and he’s in the midst of dumping another warm load right into you. gojo stares in awe at how your hips grind and move effortlessly against him. he’s got a hand attached to your right hip, and he spanks your ass. “f-fuckkk, keep movin’ like that. make me cum, make me fuckin’ cum.”

and once he came inside you for probably the umpteenth time, you steady your hips, leaning in to give the popstar a kiss near his neck. he moans from your touch, pulling you close to him as your legs felt nearly nonexistent.

“good girl, easy e-easyyy,” he purrs against your ear, and you’re putty within his hands practically. he runs a hand down your back, moving a few strands out of your face before he’s panting right with you. he grows quiet for a moment before swallowing. “damn. that was,” and he’s breaking between each of his words, pulling you right into his bare chest. “. . so hot. you should really get more jealous like this, princess.”

“i wasn’t— i wasn’t jealous,” you huff out, leaning back to stare at him. gojo smirks, his eyes averting towards your lips before back towards your face. “but satoru. you still— you never answered my question from before.”

he raises a brow, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his palm. “hm? what question.”

“…okay,” you intake a breath, feeling as though you had ran an entire marathon. “what does this mean? you um.. never said anything about being exclusive.”

“do you wanna be exclusive?” gojo sneers, cocking his head towards the left.

“i’m being serious.” you mumble, he’s still buried inside you and you shift a bit on his lap.

the popstar rolls his eyes. “girl, so am i,” and he plants a kiss near the corner of your mouth. “the press already thinks we’re dating. especially after seeing us bicker like an old couple in public.”

“so...” you look up at him, returning a kiss near his lip. your eyes basically spoke for you and he understood what you were trying to hint at.

“sooo,” he mimics you, stroking a thumb against your hip.

“if we’re gonna be together, you need to fire that new assistant.” you grouse.

“oh right riiiight,” gojo snickers. “i’ll fire her extra hard just for you, baby.”

you pause with the most noticeable deadpan. “that doesn’t even make sense.”

gojo simpers. “geez, we gotta work on that sense of humor. anything i say is supposed to be funny to you,” and he wraps an arm around you—you feel warm, pulled into his strong warm embrace. “mhm. but now that we’re finally together, i do wanna start off by saying how much i love you.”

“huh?” you croak.

gojo smugly grins, nudging you. “you heard me. i love you,” and he kisses your lips for a split second, only to pull away to watch you fully register what he just said. after what felt like ages, he finally said it back.

“r-really?” you’d softly utter, starting to feel warm all over your body. it was all your mouth could mutter out, your eyes were slightly agape and you couldn’t believe he’d return the same feelings.

“mhmmm,” he nods, stroking your back. gojo brings you into a kiss, and you kiss back, wrapping your arms over his shoulders.

you felt a weight get lifted off your shoulders, and you lean forward towards him, a brief body language sign that you wanted to start up again. his sweet taste had you whining for more, your legs locked over his waist…. and that’s right when he squeezes the right part of your ass. a good firm grip, leaning back for you to take control of him.

“so he loves you, huh.”

you’re interrupted by a low raspy voice, you break away . . . and everything was so quick, a blink of an eye. you’re staring at gojo and his reaction was just as yours was slow. he stares, not at you—but from behind you where apparently a tall broad figure was.

a loud bang rang throughout the room, and gojo choked out a gasp. again, your reaction was slow. for a second, it was like time stopped. you watched in front of you as gojo clenches his heart, a faint breathy gasp for air before he falls backwards. it was the screeching ring of a shot.

you heard what sounded like cocking in the background and you immensely crawl off of gojo’s lap.

“s-satoru?” you stammer, not even believing your eyes—you were far too scared to look behind you, let alone look near your peripherals. gojo grunts, his eyes flickering and you then after seconds later, you end up turning around to see him.

toji.

“hey girl,” he nods, that familiar smug expression never leaving his face, “miss me? i let you have your fun for a while,” toji snickers, blowing the smoke out of the muzzle. as he walks towards you, his footsteps were awfully loud. you froze, glancing down at gojo who had a awfully pale color starting to quickly take over his skin.

words couldn’t leave your lips for whatever reason, it was as if you were mute—lip locked.

you felt numb, entirely so. gojo’d just said he loved you back, and now he looked almost lifeless.

“what do you think would be a better headline? ‘famous popstar found unresponsive at the scene!’ or uh.. ‘popstar 'satoru gojo' gets into a fight with his assistant’s boyfriend and things get a little…messy’.”

“we aren’t even together anymore. fuck you, toji.” you spat, fat incoming tears blinding your vision practically.

“you did that a long time ago, sweetheart,” toji purrs, you could hear the enjoyment in his voice. “and technically, we never broke up,” he corrects you with a shrug. “oh boo hoo, enough with the tears. should be thanking me, really. no one can love you like i can. told ya i’d come back for you,” and then he chuckles behind your ear, a rough hand going on your shoulder. “now let’s go home, princess.”

#★vegasbaby.#popstar!gojo #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #female reader #anime smut #cw sex mention

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canthelpit0 · 1 month

Text

Jealous girl

Pairing: Chris x jealous!Reader

Wordcount: 5.1k +

Summary: where a girl from school, that you don’t like, somehow knows Chris. Your school life and private life collide, as you decide to make rash moves to get back at her, and teach her a lesson.

Warnings: smut, jealousy, rich kid!Reader, use of y/n, they’re seniors in HS, marking, possessive!Reader (if u squint), pet names, p in v, filming, creampie, unprotected

(A/N: ik I’ve been doing a lot of rich kid reader, but it’s just sm easier 😭 I'm sorry for any grammar errors, English is not my fist language. also, the song has like barely anything to do with the plot.)

I’ve been friends with the triplets for most of my life. We just click.

I’ve always had a slight crush on Chris, he’s the first one I met.

I was scribbling a drawing in kindergarden, sitting at a table all by myself, when Chris came up to me. He started to talk to me and rant about something, until he declared us friends.

We grew up together, went to the same elementary and middle school. But being a rich kid, my parents wanted me to go to a private high school for better education.

So now I go to a private high school in Boston, while the triplets go to Somerville high school.

At first I really didn’t want to go, since it was a private school with uniforms and all. But my parents weren’t letting up, and even threatened to send me to a boarding school in Switzerland.

So I reluctantly agreed.

There was this girl, Eva. Your basic blonde girl with green eyes.

Now, I never liked Eva’s friend, but that was years ago, and I don’t think they’re even friends anymore.

Anyway, me and Eva share the same AP European history class.

We don’t talk a lot though.

★ ★ ★

I walk down the hallway making my way towards the door. Today was a draining day and all I wanted to do was go home and sleep.

But I have homework and-

My thoughts are cut off as I stop in my track raising an eyebrow. There was chris, standing in front of the main entrance of the school.

“Y/n?” He asks excitedly. It’s like my brain pauses for a moment.

“Chris?” I ask back.

At this point I hadn’t seen Chris or his brothers in a month or so. I was too busy studying and they were busy with lacrosse.

I live in Boston at the border to Somerville. And Chris lives in Somerville. But my school is 40 minutes away from his by car.

He opens his arms and I gladly hug him. I sigh as we embrace, my eyes closing briefly.

“Why are you here?” I ask. After all, Chris, to my knowledge didn’t have a drivers license and no reason to be here.

“Well, you know Eva? Well I gave her my jacket a week ago and I came to pick it up since she goes to your school-“ He rants, his words come out fast and jumbled by how excited he is to see me.

“How do you know Eva?” The words come out sassy. And honestly if i wasn’t hyper aware of the fact that we’re on school grounds I’d slip in a swear word.

“Well a week ago I was out in Boston shopping with Matt and Nick and this girl came up to me asking for my jacket since she was cold. Just out of nowhere” he starts to rant again, but I don’t even have half the mind to interrupt him.

After all, this felt like two of my separate worlds were colliding. And I didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t seem to dislike her like I did, wich only made me despise her more.

“And you gave it to her? A stranger?” I raise an eyebrow a huff leaving my lips.

I sound more sassy than I intend to, but I can’t help it.

Students walk past us slowly. Being in a private school most people loved it here. They weren’t pushing to leave.

We stand at the side of the main entry, still inside.

“Yeah. She asked for it” he sasses back, matching my attitude. Yet his smile stays big on his face and I could tell he wasn’t serious.

“What if she stole it?” I roll my eyes looking back up at Chris who had a few inches on me.

“That’s what I said too.” He agrees dramatically. “So she offered to give me her snap and told me she’d give it back to me next opportunity she got.”

That seems a bit dumb to me. She’s rich, she could just buy a new jacket if she’s outside and cold.

“You’ve been talking?” I question. I cringe slightly at the jealous tone lacing my words but Chris doesn’t seem to pick up on it.

“Yeah” he chirps back happily.

Oh so now they were snapping too?

He sticks out like a sore thumb. The way he carries himself, the way he smiles and acts, is just a dead giveaway that he does not go to a private school. Let alone, the fact that he’d not wearing a uniform like everyone else walking out right now.

Some people give us weird looks, but most don’t even care.

I purse my lips, if my day hadn’t been bad already, it was definitely ruined now.

The problem wasn’t that he had friends, other than me. But the fact that I knew her and knew how much of a Bitch she is, and how he can’t realize that.

The fact that he knew that she goes to my school, and that i probably know her, But didn’t even bother to mention it to me.

“You know what class she has right now?” He asks me. He actually has the nerve to.

“No.” I roll my eyes. Honestly I couldn’t care less. I only share that one class with her.

I turn on my heel to walk away, but before I can he grabs my elbow pulling me back slightly.

“Please don’t leave?” He asks sweetly.

I huff yanking my arm out of his grasp. Sure it could be awkward standing in front of the main door, obviously not going to this school looking like a lost puppy. But it’s Chris, he’ll survive.

“Chris, I have shit to do”

that’s a lie. I don’t have anything planned today. I just wanted to go home and sleep.

“Pretty please??” I huff turning back around. I stand next to him, my arms crossed as I scan the people leaving the building.

“Cute uniform you got there.” He says licking his lips slightly as he looks over my body.

I was wearing the green plaid skirt. And a basic white, collared button down. Along with the schools signature green cardigan and the tie.

I had so many layers on it was crazy. Since it was a more chilly day in Boston I had my tights on, but under the tights I had Thermo leggings on to keep me warm.

Honestly if people at public schools think the dress code is strict they should go to a private school for a day.

Once three buttons from the top of my collared shirt were unbuttoned and I was dress coded for it.

Atleast the skirt wasn’t horrendously long.

It could still be considered a mini skirt if you squint.

“You say that every time you see me in it” I scoff. I can’t help the fact I’m being sassy, I’m just in a horrible mood.

“I mean it.” He answers.

But before i can respond I hear an annoying voice from in front of me. “Hey Chris.” I turn my head to look at Eva.

The bitch is smiling wide. She was wearing the khaki skirt and the navy blazer with the black tights.

I purse my lips. God I wish I could dress however I want to for school.

“Hi Eva.” Chris greets her with a hug.

I physically try to hold back a scowl. They talk about something and I drown Out Eva’s pitched, bitchy tone.

Of corse Chris wouldn’t pick up on the flirting. But I see the way she smiles at him. The way her eyes trail over his face and linger at his lips for too long.

And I don’t know why I’m getting all territorial, but I guess I’m scared that Chris won’t have time to hang out anymore if he starts dating.

Either that or I just know how much of a bitch she is and I could treat him better than she ever could.

“Y/n this is Eva, Eva this is y/n” Chris makes us shake hands. He introduces us like we don’t know each other.

She chuckles at the silly gesture. She doesn’t hate me and I don’t hate her either. I just don’t like her, and the way she acts.

I’m rich, sure. And I’m more wealthy then her, but atleast I don’t act like a brat.

We start to walk, with them chatting, and me just trailing behind them.

We get to Eva’s car, she’d said something about driving him home or something. Does this girl know he lives like more than 40 minutes away?

My skin crawls at the thought of them being together in her car for that long. All alone.

“Chris come here” I wave him over for a second. Eva doesn’t question it instead going on her phone.

He walks over to me. I grab him by the shoulder to pull him down as I whisper in his ear. “You always pick the worst people to befriend.”

I let go of him. He groans rolling his eyes. His past two friendships with girls he befriended had ended horribly. But it was so predictable.

“Y/n/n. Come on” he scoffs. I turn to walk away to my own car to drive home.

Until he grabs my arm again pulling me back. “Can we talk.” He mumbles his arms wrapping a round my torso his chest pressed against my back.

“Not now.” I huff pushing myself off of him slightly. He wasn’t holding me tightly so I get out of his grip fairly easily.

“Y/n” he huffs.

“Don’t start.” I sass at him. I clench my jaw. I feel disappointed but not surprised. Eva wasn’t the type to show guys she’s interested in just how bitchy she really is.

“I gotta go, have fun.” I smile at him sarcastically. I let my smile drop as fast as it had appeared finally walking away from them.

But when I glance over my shoulder he’s already standing next to her smiling down at her.

★ ★ ★

The whole week after she found out I knew him, she’d constantly call him, and be around me and tell me stuff about him as if I didn’t know.

She’d sho me pictures of them together, she’d tell me jokes that I’ve heard before.

It was just the same old recycled bullshit.

He’d told her that we’ve known each other for basically forever. Why the hell was she talking to me like I didn’t know him?

That weekend I went over to the triplets house like I usually do, ready to sleepover.

I was in nicks bedroom talking to him.

“God, Chris always has terrible friends. And he needs to stop talking to everyone he sees.” Nick says with an eye roll.

This was our weekly complaining session.

“I know right, he befriended some girl from my school-“ I’m cut off by Nick.

“Eva?” I nod.

“I met her a few days ago and she’s so annoying.” He agrees slapping my arm a few times as he gets worked up.

“Right.” I scoff agreeing with him.

“And she totally has a thing for Chris.” He rolls his eyes hard.

I purse my lips. Good to know that I’m not delusional and that someone else sees it too.

After that the conversation topic shifts until Nick is ranting about some random TikTok song, and about how it’s obviously written to go TikTok viral and whatnot.

★ ★ ★

“Where are you gonna sleep tonight?” Nick asks, lying flat on his back, on his bed.

I slept over almost every weekend. And usually I’d rotate between whose bed space I’ll take up.

It is Friday, I always come over Friday after school. And then I stay until Sunday. And Sunday afternoon I go back home.

I always stay over on the weekends unless I have like an upcoming exam or something.

“Uhm.” I pause. I should sleep in Matt’s room tonight. But I want to talk with Chris more.

“Chris” I state. Nick doesn’t even question it.

The last time I’d slept over was over a month ago. and while sure, we did hang out in the past month, I spent all my weekends studying.

Nick had no mind to question me. He couldn’t care less. I could tell he’d missed me, and knowing I was sleeping over was comforting no matter where I slept.

We talk for a bit more until I stand up and pick up my overnight bag. I hug Nick and tell him I’m gonna head to Chris’ room.

We really need to talk about making good friends, and who to not befriend.

Because it keeps happening that Chris will pick out the shittiest people to befriend. And god it’s so irritating having to listen to him complain after they ‘betray’ him.

I walk upstairs to Chris’ room and unceremoniously swing the door open.

Once the door opens I’m immediately greeted with the sight of the pale pink LED’s on. There he was laying on his bed laying ON his side his phone up to his face.

“Oh hi y/n” he smiles at me briefly before going back to staring at his phone.

Chris usually called me any nickname under the sun before calling me my actual name.

Eva’s piercing voice echos out of the phone speakers making my expression sour immediately.

“Hi y/n” she says loudly. I can’t help the eye roll.

“Chris.” I hiss under my breath my eyes narrowed in a glare. He glances back at me his lips pursing in mild annoyance.

He tells her he’s got to go and that he’ll call her back. Chris then hangs up, slightly sitting up, his back pressed against his head bored.

I walk in fully, now closing the door behind me.

I put my overnight bag on his desk.

“I think she likes you.” I say simply my lips tugged into a straight line.

He huffs a laugh as if he thinks I’m joking.

I look over my shoulder, observing the grey sweatpants and white wife beater combo.

He crossed his arms staring back at me.

“I’m dead serious.” I say flatly. “Ever since she found out that I know you, she’s been coming to me in breaks and talking about you like I give a fuck.”

He poked his tongue into his cheek his expression falling flat “you’re serious?” He asks his voice painfully monotone.

“Of corse you didn’t realize” I roll my eyes turning back to look at my backpack.

“Whatever” I roll my eyes. I grab my make up bag that I always had in his room and I walk out the room to the bathroom to take off my make up.

After a few minutes I come back to see him on his phone again.

“Shit you’re right.”

Chris breathes out not even looking at me just saying that. He was going through previous messages only now seeing the underlying flirtation in her choice of words.

I raise my eyebrow at him before it registers what he is saying.

“I know” I say simply.

“How do I let her down slowly?” He asks his eyes finally going up to meet mine. His blue eyes only seem more exaggerated under the pink LED lights.

Before walking away from the door I lock it, he sends me a questioning glance but ultimately doesn’t say anything.

“You know, like how do I tell her I’m not interested, without saying that?” He adds still looking at me.

I walk up to the side of his bed.

I then roll my eyes getting on the bed. I sit next to him my back against the headboard as well.

We’re both quiet, the air in the room thickening. I can practically feel my skin burning up.

“How about you make a bold statement?” I break the silence after a moment.

Before he can respond I turn and get on his lap. My eyes are dark as I Simply sit on his thighs.

His hands go to my waist out of instinct. My arms wrapping around his neck.

He huffs out a breath his cheeks tinted a slight red. “What? you wanna make a sex tape or something?” He rolls his eyes.

I roll my eyes back at him. “That would be bold, but I don’t want her to see your dick.”

“Ooh possessive?” He teases. Chris unconsciously squeezes my side making me whine under my breath.

He chuckles at the sound, but before he can comment on it I’m speaking again. “I was thinking hickey , but if you want to fuck so bad then-“ I cut myself off.

“We can do both” he assures.

I lick my lips. And before I know it I move his face with my hand tilting his head to the side. My lips touch his jawline. I kiss down his jawline to his neck before I start to suck harshly.

He lets out a harsh breath his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“Easy ma, you got all the time In The world.”

Ma. I genuinely don’t know where he heard that, but at some point he just started calling me ma or mama.

Like I said, he used every pet name under the sun, before saying my actual name.

I pull away for a second my eyes scanning the small purple bruise on his neck.

“No.” I breathe out harshly before starting to peck his neck again. Until I bite down, relatively low on his neck close to the other hickey.

I bite hard, making sure my teeth print would be there while also sucking another hickey into his skin.

He hisses at the harsh feeling, his hands clenching and unclenching on my waist. He doesn’t stop me tho. Quite contrary, I hear a few whines leave his mouth. His sounds sounding borderline like moans.

I pull away admiring his neck.

I move the strap of his wife beater to the side, kissing down his collarbone. I suck more marks into his skin, until I deem it enough.

“You wanna tap this, handsome?” I tease , my eyes meeting his pale blue ones.

His eyes are half lidded and his pupils blown out in pleasure.

It’s really late by now. It’s dark outside. And the light pink LED lights make his blue eyes look even bluer.

“Please?” He asks sweetly his tone feigning innocence.

I can feel the hardness press up against my clothed core. I grin back at him, my eyes dark in lust and half lidded like his.

I cross my arms and tug off my t shirt. I throw it to the ground, letting Chris Bask in the sight of my bra covered chest.

The lust radiating off of him only seems to double.

“So pretty.” He coos. And before I know it he’s leaning forward and kissing my chest.

He glances up at me through his lashes and mumbles against my skin. “Can I leave hickeys too?”

I chuckle at the question. It really didn’t matter for me. My schools dress code is strict and I would have to cover them up anyway.

“Under the neckline” I nod simply. And before I realize it he’s sucking on the tender skin of one of my boobs.

He licks and sucks at the skin, half my boob covered in his saliva now.

I tug in his top. He groans against me, obviously not wanting to pull away. But he eventually does, I pull the wife beater over his head and throw it to the floor.

His hand goes up to cup my other boob while he kisses down from my collarbone to my chest and then sucks another hickey at the top of it.

I card my hand through his hair while I don’t bother pulling him off. He lets me stroke his hair moaning into my skin.

He pulls away, his eyes even darker than before. his hair now messy as well.

I get off of him. He groans at the loss of contact. I can see he’s about to complain. But before he can, I start to undo my pajama pants and slide them down.

My black lacy thong and my black lacy bra match.

Chris had made fun of me for wearing such ‘slutty’ underwear before. After all whenever I showered here I left some of my clothes, namely my underwear, here.

I had my own little section in Chris’ closet filled with my panties and bras.

“Fuck.” He breaths out closing his eyes briefly and then opening them again as if checking if he was seeing things.

He starts to shift and tug down his own sweatpants. He eagerly tugs them off along with his boxers letting his cock spring free.

My mouth quite literally waters at the sight of his hard dick lying flat against his stomach.

He lays down flat on his back looking to his side to look me in the eyes.

“Please ride me ma.”

He says in such a pleading and whiny tone, how could I say no to that.

I walk past his bed to his desk and pick up my phone from where I’d put it.

I walk back tugging the thong off swiftly. I get on top of him straddling his torso. I grind myself against his dick, feeling it glide between my wet folds.

I tug on my bra trying to get it off. And when I finally do, it’s also discarded quickly.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous mama.” He sighs looking at my boobs, both of them having small hickeys on them.

He puts his two hands on my waist lifting me slightly. He trails one hand down to my folds examining my pussy.

I feel him push his middle finger into my cunt abruptly to wich I moan.

He hums as if he was thinking. “So tight baby.” He coos his second hand on my waist caressing my skin gently.

“Gotta stretch this pussy out. We don’t want it to tear do we?” Chris asks sarcastically, obviously joking.

I lick my lips and let out a dry chuckle. His girth really did look painfully big. Atleast for what I was used to.

It wasn’t like he was that big, but it was definitely well above average.

I hand him my phone so he can start recording and that’s just what he does. He uses his hand from my waist to film this.

The camera pointing right at my pussy. He pushes a second finger in, briefly finger fucking me and scissoring his fingers to stretch me more.

“So fucking soaked.” He groans under this breath.

Chris takes his fingers out of me grabbing his hard dick and jerking it for a second. I lift myself and he positions it at my cunt, while also making sure to keep the camera at the right angle.

I push myself down letting out a breathy moan.

His hand, that’s not holding my phone, goes to my waist to steady me.

I suddenly push myself down on him completely. I whine loudly, my body jerking forward at the impact. He groans at the feeling of being balls deep in me.

“You okay?” He asks rubbing my waist gently in comfort.

“Yea” I breathe out my eyes closing as I try to get used to the feeling.

My legs are already numb and I’m already questioning why I’m on top.

I start to slowly bounce myself on him. He watches through my phone, his eyes glued to where we connect, seemingly fascinated by the sight.

“So tight for me.” He breaths out harshly trying to hold back loud groans. He was painfully aware of the fact that his siblings and parents were home.

I start to bounce on him more listening to him shower me in praises and compliments.

“Fuck.” His eyes stay trained on the phone screen, but he occasionally glances up to look at me.

I start to ride him harder the compliments and praise only making me wetter.

“God, come on, get yourself off on my dick like the slut you are.” He huffs. His free hand lightly on my waist to help me steady my movements.

He tries not to be too loud, both for the camera and because everyone is home.

I lean forward slightly and take my phone from his grasp.

I film his face and his reactions now.

His hands go to my waist slightly squeezing my skin as I start to rock my hips harder.

“Good boy, be quiet yeah.”

I feel the knot in my stomach tighten threatening to snap. The constant hit to my sweet spot is so overwhelming, and before I know it I’m releasing on his dick.

my hands are shaky but my phone is still angled at him, catching his mouth dropping in pleasure.

I clench around him letting out soft whines and moans, while Chris uses his hands to make me grind on him.

After a second when I calm down he grins. Chris holds his hand out for the phone that I give to him. He lifts me slightly to show the Camera the white circle my cum created around his length.

He makes no move to switch our positions so I just grind into him.

Chris turns the recording off and puts my phone on the nightstand. His hands find their way to my hips holding me tightly.

But before he can switch our positions like he was lplanning to, his phone starts ringing.

I glance ova seeing Eva as the caller ID. I roll my eyes. I feel pretty over stimulated already, but I want her to know.

“Pick up.” I demand under my breath. Our eyes meet for a moment but he eventually complies.

He leans over and takes his phone, picking up the call with a frown.

As soon as I hear her annoying voice i start to ride him again, making sure that the slapping sounds are loud enough.

He tries not to groan at the movements, trying to keep himself together.

“Eva, uh” he pauses his eyes locking with mine once more. He can’t help it when his free hand on my waist urges me to go harder.

“I’m kind of busy right now”

But she doesn’t get the hint and questions him. “Too busy to talk to me?”

Fucking pick me.

“Yeah well” he lets out a soft groan, pulling the phone away so she doesn’t hear it too well.

She starts to yap about some unimportant shit. Chris puts the phone on the side of the bed sitting up.

I stop moving due to Chris harsh grip. He pulls me off and flips us around.

I grab the pillow re- adjusting it so the side of my face is buried in it, my ass up for him.

He grins a soft slap echoing through the room. He kneeds my ass trying to smooth the pain of the slap.

He spreads my cheeks and pushes himself back in. He immediately starts up a harsh and fast pace fucking me into the pillow.

“Are you having sex right now?” Eva questions sounding like a brat who was just denied a toy

He leans over for a second picking up his phone. “No I’m not, why would you think that” he scoffs continuing his relentless attack to my sweet spot.

My core throbs around him, clenching to try and suck him back in.

“Oh my god you are-“ before she can rant about god knows what, Chris hangs up the phone.

He scoffs his grip in my waist tightens as he continues to forcefully pull me back on him.

He goes to the camera app on his phone starting to film once again.

He admires the way his entire length disappears into my tight cunt, and the way he has a white ring around the base of his cock from my previous release.

He picks up pace even more, if that was even humanly possible, until I feel like im going to cum again.

I turn my face and burry it in the pillow trying to muffle my noises. Because honestly I’d be surprised if the whole house didn’t already know what we’re doing.

“Close” I whine out between incoherent moans.

“Me too ma. Hold it for a bit, yeah?” He says sweetly his harsh actions not so sweet.

“Where do you want it?” He keeps glancing between the camera and me, sometimes angling the camera to show my back and the back of my head too.

“Inside” I whine. And that mildly catches Chris off guard.

He only picks up pace tho, his palm meets my butt again, in a harsh slap. I moan at the feeling. “Come on come for me” he demands.

And before I know it the knot in my stomach snaps once more my thighs shaking and my cunt clenching a round him.

The Camera is focused on my cunt. His thrusts get more sloppy and messy until he gives me one last harsh thrust.

Chris releases into me, filling me up to the brim and stuffing me.

We both stay like that for a moment to catch our breathes.

He stops the recording and throws the phone next to me, onto the bed.

He trails his hand over my ass and lower back, before gently grabbing my hips and pulling out.

He lets out a breath seeing his length covered in our combined juices, and me leaking.

He pushes me on my side slightly, so I’m laying down fully. I sigh turning my face into the pillow my arm under it.

“You okay?” He asks softly. Chris kisses my shoulder softly.

I just realized that we hadn’t kissed once. This entire time, his lips hadn’t been on mine not once. And I don’t know if he did that on purpose or not.

“ m’ good” I sigh closing my eyes briefly.

I nuzzle my face into the pillow, breathing out. I blink my eyes open again sighing.

I feel his eyes burn into the side of my face.

“Were you jealous?”

My eyes shoot open and I turn my head slightly to look at him. “About what?” I say simply playing dumb.

“Why do you not like her.” He asks again.

“I never liked her.”

“Right, and you don’t like that she likes me.” He states simply.

I scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself” I huff and nuzzle my face into the pillow.

“You literally have my cum inside of you right now, ma.” He huffs in response.

I purse my lips burring my face harder into the pillow.

“I like that.” He says again making me look back at him. Chris is looking down at me with a sweet smile

“What?” I ask and look at him from the corner of my eyes.

“That you’re jealous.” Chris replies, his smirk ever so cocky.

“Why would I be jealous?” I huff, replying sarcastically.

“Don’t deny it ma. I think it’s cute.” Chris chuckles. He grins down at me victoriously. He lays down next to me staring into my eyes.

Masterlist

A/N: this was so fun to write lmao. sorry for not posting in the past few days, I was just busy with school and didn't have the motivation to write. Feel free to to send me stuff my req and asks are open <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf

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trblsvt · 1 year

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in this life | choi seungcheol

summary | honestly, you didn’t really care what choi seungcheol did anymore. but, when his mom called you saying there was an accident, you found yourself at the foot of his bed. genre | fluff, angst, hurt/comfort; exes!au warnings | swearing, mentions of hospitals, injuries from an accident (not life threatening), mentions of drinking, suggestive… for like a flashback, nudity (non-sexual and not descriptive), miscommunication possibly…, jealousy…, insecurities/self-doubt word count | 13.47k words pairing | choi seungcheol x fem!reader minli | lowercase intended i literally have nothing to say about this. sort of a monster to write. i had so many ideas for this, yet little brainpower to execute! it was a fun concept and the longest fic i’ve written for this blog… italics mean flashback or past event… update | i forgot a few things to tag under warnings, sorry :( they have been added

you were doing great, just great. it started raining when you left your umbrella back at your apartment. you were late to work, and you spilled your coffee on the way out of the door. things were great, and it had been seven months since you and your boyfriend called it quits.

you’d like to say it ended in a big blaze of glory, something movie-like, but it was just the opposite. you had sat down with seungcheol and told him that you were unhappy. he was always too busy and refused to make time for anything other than his work. as for you, well you were tired. when you told him, he sort of just looked at you blankly and just shrugged.

he fucking shrugged. great. so that was it. you just stared at him blankly. he wasn’t even going to put up a fight. two years down the drain.

“so that’s it?” you had asked before you left.

“yeah, i guess so,” he had replied.

and that’s how it ended, you packed up your stuff and went back to your apartment. you technically weren’t living with seungcheol, you still had your lease and whatever, but you spent a lot of time at seungcheol’s.

you finally made it to the office and clocked in. nothing important was going on today which was nice, but also this meant your day was going to be endlessly boring. at least it was friday.

you sat down and logged into your computer. “shouldn’t you change your home screen?” a voice startled you out of your thoughts of the hours to come. you spun around in your chair and stared at your friend minjeong. you looked between her and your computer screen. you knew what she was talking about, but you decided to play dumb. “what are you talking about?” you asked. minjeong sort of glared at you.

“that’s from your vacation to jeju,” she frowned.

the same vacation seungcheol took you on.

“yeah, it’s a sunset for jeju. what about it?” you huffed. she didn’t respond, just gave you a look. you knew that look. it was the “i know better than you, why aren’t you listening to me?” look. “seungcheol isn’t even in this picture,” you defended your screensaver.

“but seungcheol was there. that’s a memory with seungcheol,” she countered. she was right. you probably should’ve changed it, but whether it was with seungcheol or not, it was a nice picture. “yeah, it is, but we’re on good terms so what’s the big deal?” you blurted out.

there was the “you’re such a liar” look. “really? when’s the last time you talked to seungcheol since you broke up?” she entertained you even though you both knew you hadn’t contacted seungcheol once since you broke up. “well, it’s not like i keep track or anything, that would be weird,” you brushed her off. you could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “seriously, ___, i don’t think this is healthy for you to still keep remnants of your relationship with him around. it’s going to prevent you from moving on,” she explained.

“i know, just- just give me a little time,” you sighed.

“time? it’s been seven months! how about we go out tonight? you can get your sights on some new man. i think i overheard that changkyun is going out tonight at that new bar.”

“now why would i be interested in where changkyun is going tonight?” you scoffed. minjeong had a theory that changkyun had been crushing on you since he first joined the company, but you were too “lovesick” with seungcheol to see. “he’s so into you! i’m not saying to marry the guy, just take your mind off seungcheol. it’s his loss anyway,” minjeong laughed.

you wanted to believe that, you really did.

you had every intention of going out with minjeong, but the day was going on so momentously, you weren’t sure if you could stand up straight for another second. you both had to unexpectedly stay longer and work overtime, and it might have been the death of you. you heard minjeong’s cheery humming coming around the corner. “are you ready to get absolutely wasted?” she smiled.

“i was going for more of a buzzed thing,” you yawned.

“oh no, don’t do that. you get so quiet when you’re tired before you drink,” she whined. you looked at her, but she was right. you had about three different moods when you were drunk. one, loud. two, quiet. three, insane. and most of the time, the way you ended up correlated to how you were feeling before you drank. you couldn’t explain it, but it just happened.

you were about to offer a clever rebuttal when your phone started ringing. “one second,” you didn’t even bother to check the caller id. “hello?” you replied.

“ah, ___ thank you for answering,” a familiar voice floated through the phone. you paused. you pulled your phone away from your ear and looked at the name on the call.

mrs. choi.

“mrs. choi, hello, i wasn’t expecting you to call me,” you said almost breathlessly. you glanced over at minjeong and she stared at you, wide-eyed. “___, dear. i’m so glad you picked up. i need you to come over,” she sighed. she sounded tired like she had been crying. wait. she wanted you to come over? for what? “come over? what’s going on? is everyone okay?” you asked, logging off your computer and placing the few things you took out of your bag, back into the bag.

“i have hope that it will be. seungcheol was in a car accident.”

you apologized profusely to minjeong and left the office rushing to the seungcheol’s apartment. you knew the way to his apartment, to him, like the back of your hand. you punched the code in that bypassed the need to be buzzed in, and made your way to the elevator.

after you pressed the button to the fifth floor of the complex you felt your hands become inexplicably sweaty. why did you rush over here like a lovesick fool? you weren’t even dating him anymore. why did his mom call you? what was going on? the elevator dinged, alerting you that it was time to get out.

you made your way down to his apartment. 5-12. it looked the same since the last time you were there. you stared at the door. it had been so long since you had been there. your heart was beating so fast, you didn’t know what to do. so, you just knocked.

the door flew open almost instantly. “___, my dear, come in,” mrs. choi welcomed you warmly. you smiled and bowed slightly. when you stepped through the doorway your first instinct was to run away, but you couldn’t. you kicked your shoes off and followed mrs. choi in the direction of seungcheol’s bedroom.

she lightly grasped at your arm. “the car crash happened a couple days ago. we just got out of the hospital. he broke his right leg. it was jammed against the dash and steering wheel. he also has a bruised lung from the airbag, and a mild concussion from the collision,” she explained. you nodded. that sounded awful. where did he crash? did someone crash into him, or did he crash into someone else?

almost reading your mind, she added, “he didn’t hurt anyone else. it was raining the other day. it was dark and his car hydroplaned into a barrier. the cops thought it might’ve been a drunk driving incident since they found newly bought alcohol in the back of his car, but there wasn’t any in his system.”

you were still rendered speechless. seungcheol was the safest driver you knew. he always warned you about hydroplaning and what to do if it happened. why didn’t he do what he always told you?

you realized you were spaced out when mrs. choi rested a hand on your shoulder. “i was surprised that you didn’t come the other day, but seungcheol insisted that you were away on a trip of some sort. he didn’t want me to call you, but you’re his girlfriend! i had to tell you at some point, and you’re obviously back in town,” she exclaimed. “thank you so much for coming, ___. i don’t know where seungcheol would be without you.”

you’re his girlfriend.

what the fuck?

you certainly were not his girlfriend anymore. why did she think you were together? it had been seven months. mrs. choi was sharp, she wouldn’t accidentally slip and say you were his girlfriend unless that is if…

then it dawned on you.

for whatever reason, seungcheol never told his mom the two of you broke up.

fuck.

seungcheol was sick. he was more than sick. he was hurt, physically. and his mom only wanted what was best for her son. she brought you here for something. you weren’t about to make this poor woman’s day worse by telling her you weren’t dating seungcheol anymore, so you played along. “yes, i just got back from a business trip. i always tell seungcheol to call me if something’s the matter. i’m so glad you called me, i wasn’t going to come over for another day or two because of his work schedule,” you pretended. she looked at you fondly. “i always knew you were a good one, ___,” she smiled. it pained you to lie to her, but it seemed like the best option for now.

“we just got back from the hospital a few hours ago. he’s all set up in there. i’m not sure if he’s awake now, but do you want to see him?” she asked. you nodded quietly. you didn’t know what you were going to do in front of seungcheol. you preferred not to think about it.

“before you go in, i have a large favor to ask you. i understand you’re a busy person, but if you could, oh my i feel so embarrassed to ask this. if you could stay with him for a while. take some time off and take care of him because i really cannot stay. my father is ill and i must return home to care for him,” she laughed bitterly. “i would stay, and i would never dream of dumping this sort of responsibility on just anyone, but you’re his girlfriend. not saying girlfriends and wives are only meant for taking care of husbands and boyfriends, but i know you care about seungcheol. i just thought it-”

“yes, i can do that,” you cut her off. why did you say that? “i can contact my manager and work remotely.” why do you keep saying things like this? suddenly mrs. choi’s arms were around you. “thank you, thank you, thank you, dear. i am so grateful for you, and i know my son is too. thank you! i must get going, but i already stocked the fridge. you can go in. once again, thank you so much. our family owes you so much,” she cried. you rubbed her back. “oh, don’t say that. you don’t owe me anything. i’m just happy he’s alright,” you whispered.

that was the first truthful thing you said in that entire interaction.

when you entered the room, mrs. choi accompanied you. seungcheol was awake. he stared longingly out the window on the opposite side of the room away from the door. “honey, there’s someone here to see you,” mrs. choi called gently. you wanted to hide, so you tried to. partially behind her and you looked over her shoulder. seungcheol tried to adjust himself and he slowly turned over to look at his mother. “mom, i really didn’t want to see anyone-” he began, but his eyes met yours and he froze.

“oh come on, darling, it’s ___. she’s agreed to help out some. she cares about you,” she cooed. seungcheol looked like a child who got caught going through the cookie jar.

due to the dim light, you couldn’t really see that well, but you noticed the large soft cast that he had on his right leg. it looked like he was having a hard time breathing, that was the bruised lung. he had some cuts on his face that had already scabbed over, but you noticed some dark spots on his pillow, maybe he had been picking at them. he had a habit of picking at his scabs.

but the most striking thing to you was how pale he was. he looked like a ghost, which was strange since seungcheol loved to go outside to read or watch people. what had changed since you left? you noticed a wheelchair and a pair of crutches.

“mom, i- why did you call, ___? i told you she was busy,” seungcheol asked weakly. before his mom could nag him, you decided that you could save this entire situation from becoming more awkward than it needed to be. “cheol, don’t you remember? i came back yesterday, but i knew you were going to be busy with work,” you forced a smile. you thought you were going to throw up his mother grinned and squeezed your hand. she made her way over to seungcheol’s closet and started rummaging through it looking for something.

you looked back at seungcheol and it looked like he might cry. his eyes yelled at you, what are you doing here?

if you were honest you weren’t sure.

you saw mrs. choi out while she continued to thank you profusely for looking about for seungcheol. “of course, no need to worry. seungcheol is safe with me,” you assured.

“what would i do without you, ___? i hope someday you can join the family officially. i mean you’ve been dating seungcheol for over two years now,” she grinned hugging you.

yeah, i did too, you thought.

she left and instructed you to just heat something up that she left in the fridge. you locked the door behind you and made your way into the kitchen. you pulled out a tray of noodles and plated them. she left you a few tips about seungcheol so you decided to look at it.

he has work off, so no need to worry about driving him to work. once he is better and the doctors clear his concussion can start working from home.

please make sure he is eating three meals a day. he’s been acting differently and hasn’t been eating as much.

for showers, there’s a cover for the cast because he can’t get it wet. i set up a chair in his shower, so he should need minimal help in that area. maybe just changing.

pain medications are in the cabinet next to the fridge. dosage is two tablets every six hours. but, if he isn’t hurting that much give him one, or if he isn’t in any pain don’t worry about it.

he has a doctor’s appointment in a couple of weeks to see how his leg is healing is progressing.

thank you so much <3 call me if you need anything

you frowned at the second one. not eating well? seungcheol always ate well. this seemed pretty manageable. you had already called your supervisor, who approved your request to work remotely. you did have to lie and say you were taking care of a family member, but otherwise, it was a mostly truthful story.

when you put the sheet down, the microwave had finished and you brought the plate into seungcheol’s room. he wasn’t looking in your direction, instead, he was looking out the window. “seungcheol, i brought you dinner. your mom made it,” you announced. no response. you huffed and looked around the room. you didn’t want to push him, but you needed him to eat. “i know you’re not sleeping. you’ll heal faster if you eat. your mom needs you to eat,” you continued. yet, to no avail, he still stared out the window, body closed off to you. you sighed, you wished it didn’t have to come to this. “seungcheol, i need you to eat. please, for me,” you pleaded. there was a slight shift, but still no response. “well, i’ll just leave it here, but eat it soon. it’ll get cold,” you sighed, placing the plate on the nightstand where he could reach it.

why did you sign up for this? it wasn’t like you owed him anything. why didn’t you just tell his mom you were broken up? so many questions were flooding your mind, so you almost missed his whispered question. “what, did you say? i’m sorry, i missed it,” you asked, turning around from the door.

“do you- do you have something to eat?” he asked, breath labored.

something in your heart stuttered.

you silently nodded.

“that’s good,” was all he said.

it was almost 9:00 pm. you had your plate of food, and you thought it would be best to run over to your apartment to pick up some clothes and belongings, especially since you were supposed to live here for a while. you would run in and check with seungcheol and let him know you were leaving and then you’d be back in thirty minutes.

you knocked on the door, but no response. you hoped that it wasn’t going to be like this for the rest of his recovery. “i’m coming in, seungcheol,” you called opening the door.

but when you entered you were met with an empty bed. your eyebrows furrowed. you noticed the empty plate of his dinner. then you noticed his wheelchair was gone, and the faint glow of light from under the bathroom door.

you didn’t hear the shower running, so maybe he was just using the bathroom. yet, something in your gut told you otherwise. you made your way over to the bathroom door and pressed your ear against it. you heard quiet sniffling.

oh.

“seungcheol? are you in there?” you asked. dumb question, but you didn’t know what else to lead with. no response. “seungcheol, are you okay?” obviously not. “seungcheol, if you don’t answer me, i’m coming in.”

“no, please. please don’t come in,” he responded finally. “i’m fine.”

“no you’re not. i can help, seungcheol. let me help. what’s going on?” you called. there was a hesitation before he spoke, “i- i don’t know how to do this.”

“what is this?” you asked again for clarification.

“cleaning. i don’t know to do it with this thing on my leg.” that made sense. you already knew he was going to need help with that. you just wished he would’ve come to you first. “can i come in?” you hoped he would say yes.

“no,” he said.

“why not?”

“i don’t want you to see me like this.”

“this isn’t the time to act modest. i’m here to help.” there was a deep sigh on the other side of the door. finally, you heard some shuffling and the door was open. you walked in and took in your surroundings. seungcheol was without a shirt and pants. he sat slumped in his wheelchair as he quickly tried to wipe his tears. you saw some bruises that covered his abdomen. you also noticed how he looked skinnier. that must be why his mom wanted to make sure he was eating. the cover for his cast was sitting on the counter, so you grabbed it.

you knelt down next to him, he wasn’t looking at you. you looked into the shower and noticed the shower chair. “seungcheol, i’m gonna put a towel under you right now, so can you lift yourself up a little?” you said grabbing a towel to put onto the seat of the wheelchair. he did, and you tried your best to arrange it. “can you stand at all?” you asked. he huffed and pushed himself up, and used you as a brace.

you guided him into his walk-in shower and helped him sit down. you paused and looked at him closely. he looked so tired, which was expected, but there was something else there. you just couldn’t put your finger on it. “i need you to take off your underwear, unless you want to shower in them,” you directed. he glared at you and mumbled something. “what was that?” you asked.

“i don’t-” he began.

“now is not the time to be modest,” you chided.

“no! i don’t want you to see me like this! i don’t want you to see me all broken and bruised! it’s not right that my mother asked you to do this! just leave! i know you don’t want to be here, so just go. it’s already humiliating enough,” he heaved. you felt your jaw tighten and your fingers clawed at your sides. you didn’t want to respond to that, at least not at that moment. “take off your underwear, seungcheol,” you ordered, crossing your arms. he finally looked at you in your eyes, and he pushed his underwear off. you had to help him get it over his cast, but otherwise, it was seamless. next, you grabbed the cast cover which was essentially a glorified plastic bag, and slid it over his bandaged leg.

seungcheol’s eyes were downcast again, and he refused to acknowledge you. his shower head was detachable and handheld, so you took it down and placed it closer to him. he still wasn’t looking at you. although you really needed to get some stuff from your apartment, you could stay. when you started rolling up your sleeves on your work blouse and slipping out of your house slippers, seungcheol stared at you incredulously. you stepped into the shower and turned on the water. you made sure the head was facing the ground as you waited for it to warm up. “what are you doing?” he asked. he almost sounded angry, but that could be addressed later. you snatched the washcloth that was hanging on a hook inside the shower and found his shampoo and conditioner. he leaned over and grabbed your wrist, it wasn’t harsh or forceful, just him. “what are you doing?” he repeated.

“taking care of you,” you said shortly. “now close your eyes. tell me if it’s too hot.” he released your wrist and there was that look again. you had to figure out what that was about. you raised the shower head and soaked his hair, and promptly began to lather his shampoo into his hair. he seemed to relax at that. you ran your hands through his hair like you used to. he liked it when you tugged at his strands. it brought him a comfort he couldn’t describe. yet, his hair was shorter now, not the longer strands that you were used to. you wondered what made him cut it, but you knew now wasn’t the time to ask about it.

the rest of the shower went without any hitch. your hands running over the broad expanse of his back. something about that moment was so domestic, intimate, yet you knew you couldn’t have it the way you wanted it. the way you wanted him. so, you pushed it down, just like the way you did when you noticed him distancing himself from you and drowning himself in his work.

you helped him get into some clean clothes and bed after he brushed his teeth and dried his body. after you brought him his pain medication with a glass of water to stick next to his bed, you were about to go out and run to your apartment. he saw you rustling around in your bag that you left in his room. “what are you doing?” he asked.

“looking for my keys,” you replied.

“why?”

“so i can go home and grab some things. i’ll be working from home, i mean, i’ll be working here while i help you.” god, why did you call his apartment home? it hadn’t been your home for so long. “i’ll be back soon. i’ll be quiet when i come back so just sleep.”

“no, don’t go.”

“pardon?”

“don’t go.” he stared at you like a petulant child. was this a symptom of a concussion? “seungcheol, i have to go get some of my things. i don’t really want to sleep in my work clothes,” you tried to reason with the pouting man.

“you left some of your clothes. t-shirts and stuff. sweatpants. just wear that. it’s too late for you to leave now. it wouldn’t be safe,” he shrugged but winced. that was the bruised lung. you didn’t know you left your things over, if you did you would’ve made one more trip to pick them up.

but…

seungcheol didn’t throw out the clothes you left behind. was he stashing them in case he had another girl come over that needed to borrow clothes? was he saving them for a special time to burn them? why did he keep your clothes?

no matter, it was no use arguing with seungcheol, and you were tired. you hadn’t even had time to process the fact he had been in an accident, to begin with. “where?” you asked turning back around.

“in my closet, where your clothes usually are.” he looked at you like it was obvious. why would it be obvious? you wanted to scream. a normal person after a breakup usually burns the things their ex left behind, or they maybe just throw them out on the street. they don’t keep it in the same place in the closet. you breathed deeply to calm your mind. now was not the time to address the elephant in the room. “i’ll be getting a shower then,” you said, eyeing him suspiciously. he just nodded and turned to face the window.

the shower was uneventful other than the thousands of thoughts flowing through your mind. you hoped that they would leave you and flow down the drain. when you finally got out of the shower, you realized you would have to walk through seungcheol’s bedroom to get to the couch. hopefully, he was knocked out. you slid on the clothes that you had left there. it was an old sweatshirt and pajama bottoms, but it would get the job done for the night. the smelled like they were cleaned with his detergent, and you weren’t sure if you loved it or if you wanted it off of your body forever. you tried the best you could to open the door as quietly as possible, and it seemed to work. you were basically out the door without seungcheol waking up or noticing you. that is until he did. “where are you going?” he asked. you hung your head, your hand leaving the doorknob. “to the couch,” you replied.

“why?”

now, there was something seriously wrong with him. you glanced around the room, searching for an answer. “because i’m going to sleep on the couch,” you scrutinized him a bit further. he stared at you with the same confusion. he seemingly picked up on the mutual tension and confusion in the air, “i’ll sleep on the couch, you sleep here,” he clarified. you choked on air. he must have more than a concussion, he had amnesia of some sort because you don’t just let your ex sleep in your bed, especially after you had been in a serious accident.

you had to snap yourself out of the trance you were in before seungcheol could even attempt to get out of bed, which he was already in the process of trying. rushing over to him and pushing him back under the covers was more of a feat than you thought it was going to be. he seemed adamant about having you stay in his bed while he went to the couch. you were getting deja vu or something to the fights leading up to the end of your relationship.

“no, i’ll take the couch,” he had insisted.

“no, this is your home and your bed. i’ll just stay on the couch since you don’t want me to go to my apartment,” you had refused. “talk in the morning?”

“yeah sure.”

“no, you’re the guest here, i’ll take the couch,” he shrugged, once again trying to push himself up. you placed a hand on his shoulder. “seungcheol, i wasn’t the one in a car accident,” you reasoned. “you won’t be comfortable on the couch.”

“just- just let me do something for you,” he muttered under his breath. you don’t think you were supposed to hear it, but you did.

“the best thing you can do for me is to sleep in your own bed and heal.” his gaze lifted and looked at yours. he looked utterly exhausted, and to be honest, you probably looked the same. he inhaled deeply and sat back against his headrest in concession. you smiled at him and before you could stop yourself, you ran your hand through his hair which he happily accepted. “good night, seungcheol,” you said.

“good night,” he replied sounding more at ease. in another lifetime, there would be more to this than a simple good night, but in this lifetime it was different. so much different than you ever hoped for.

“i love you, cheol.”

“i love you too, ___.”

the crick in your back was going to be the death of you, but oh well, you already called into work and took the next week off before you started working remotely. minjeong was surprised that you even agreed to this in the first place. “___, he was an asshole to you,” she pointed out over the phone. you were currently lugging your stuff down the hall to seungcheol’s apartment, phone dangerously stuck between your shoulder and cheek. “he wasn’t an asshole,” you argued. for some reason, the need to defend seungcheol still ran through your veins.

“he was, ___. he was,” minjeong sighed. you knew that she was right, but you needed to believe that the breakup was caused all just a big misunderstanding and move on. “i’ve got to go, minnie,” you sighed reaching seungcheol’s doorway.

“___, don’t- ugh, don’t do anything you’ll regret. he didn’t treat you right. he wasn’t toxic, but he was definitely neglectful to you,” she groaned.

“it’s not like i’m going to crawl back to him. i’m just helping him.”

“but why should you?”

seungcheol had some bad habits, and it didn’t always end up well for you.

“cheol, what are you-” you were promptly cut off when seungcheol pressed his lips against yours with an energy that felt unfamiliar. it was just the average evening, so you didn’t understand why he was kissing you like that. not that he had to have a reason to kiss you, it’s just that it hadn’t happened in so long. you had been with him long enough to know how passionate he was about, well, everything. but, this felt different. not saying it was bad. you craved him being this close for weeks, and he was finally in your grasp. his hands were planted firmly on your waist and he moved you to where he pleased. “come on, baby, just let me feel you,” he smiled against your lips.

call you touch-starved (which you were), but you couldn’t help melting into him. this was the most attention you had felt from him in so long. “cheol, please,” you gasped as his lips traveled down your neck. he pulled you infinitely closer and you let him. yet, something was nagging at you. your stomach began to drop as his hands began to slide under your shirt. sinking suspicions started to bubble up through your heart. “cheol, kiss me,” you begged, not wanting your thoughts to be true. he hummed and obliged. he pressed his lips against yours in this new fervor. the heat between you was becoming unbearable as your suspicion was correct.

beer.

the faint taste of it lingered on his tongue, and it made you want to throw up. for the first time in who knows how long, he touches you like he’s never done before but only because he’s intoxicated. great. you pushed him away. “did you drive home by yourself?” you asked gazing into his tired eyes.

“no, i had joshua drop me off,” he murmured, hands still not leaving your skin, but that’s all you wanted him to do. just get off of me, is what you wanted to yell. how dare you come here drunk and treat me better than you ever have sober for the past months, is what you wanted to scream. “i think it’s time for you to go to bed, cheol,” you opted for instead. he shook his head still grasping at you. “don’t touch me anymore, seungcheol,” you hissed, swatting his hand away and pulling him to his bathroom.

she didn’t sound angry, just exasperated. she had a point. there was no reason why you should offer your help to him. seungcheol never made time for you when you were together, why were you making time for him yet again? it was major deja vu. “look, he wasn’t nice to me, yes. i hated him for a long time, maybe i still do. but, his mom called me, so i feel like i’m doing it for her. not for him,” you attempted to justify. minjeong scoffed. it was a deserved scoff, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. minjeong was there when things ended with seungcheol, so she would know the entire situation from the most unbiased, well sort of unbiased, outside position. she was your friend, and it was only natural for her to want to protect you. you couldn’t fault her for that. “i just want what’s best for you, and i’m not convinced helping him through recovery is the best plan,” she sighed.

“i know. you know he hurt me, i won’t let it happen again. i have no intention of getting back with him. you’re right. he was an asshole. i’ve got to go. talk later?” you asked carefully reaching for the spare set of keys his mom gave you.

“let me kick his ass if he hurts you again.”

“i will.”

“talk later! i’m going to miss you at work. love you!”

“love you too.”

after you successfully hung up without dropping your bags, phone, or keys, you opened the door to the kitchen light on. that’s weird. you were pretty sure you left it off when you went to get your stuff. you kicked off your shoes and made your way into to kitchen, your luggage bag dragging behind you.

you were greeted by seungcheol attempting to push himself up from his wheelchair to wash some fruit in the sink. “seungcheol! what are you doing?” you rushed to his side. he glanced over his shoulder at you. he sort of gave you some dumb look like he didn’t know what was wrong. “you shouldn’t be pushing yourself like this,” you chided. “i can wash these. you need to go back to bed. you should rest.”

“i think i can handle washing some fruit,” he scoffed slumping down in a chair. you rolled your eyes. “it’s not about washing fruit, i know you’re perfectly capable of washing fruit. you were in a car accident a few days ago. you shouldn’t be pushing yourself to get up,” you explained. he just mumbled something under his breath and tried to maneuver his way out of the kitchen. you watched him carefully as he made his way back into his room, and you heard him sigh when he shut the door behind him.

you had a sinking feeling that this was going to be a long recovery process, for the both of you.

it once again time for seungcheol to go to the doctor. the past few weeks had been back and forth to doctor’s appointments. his concussion was going down. to say things were going well would be a stretch. seungcheol barely spoke to you. you didn’t necessarily expect him to be buddy-buddy with you, but it was strange. he always tried to avoid looking at you. you weren’t sure what you did to deserve this treatment, after all, he was the one who broke up with you.

sleeping on the couch for the past weeks was not ideal. working from seungcheol’s home office was not ideal either. it was weird getting on video calls when you were so used to walking to meetings with minjeong. seungcheol tried his best to not disturb you, but sometimes he would knock on the door and sheepishly ask you for help with something.

the drive to the doctor’s and the check-up itself were uneventful. his leg was healing nicely, and they even decided it was time for a boot, which was great because you could tell he was getting sick of sitting down all the time. “well, mr. choi, it looks like your lung is looking a lot better based off of the scans, and according to your…” dr. hwang paused looking in your direction. seungcheol looked at you briefly like was afraid of what you were going to say.

you weren’t necessarily worried about getting kicked out because you weren’t immediate family, but for some reason, you chose against saying you were his friend. “i’m his girlfriend,” you bit the bullet. you hoped it didn’t seem too unnatural when you said it. you saw seungcheol’s ears perk up, but he still didn’t address you.

dr. hwang looked between the two of you seemingly wanting to say something but didn’t. “ah, i see. well you’ve been taking amazing care of mr. choi. according to your girlfriend, you seem to have an easier time breathing. she also said you’re reporting less pain in your head. this is good, since we usually expect swelling and inflammation from a concussion goes down pretty quickly. your concussion should be largely gone by next week, but i would advise against going back to work for some time. you can start walking on this as soon as you feel comfortable, until then use crutches. but, don’t drive until i give you the okay,” dr. hwang rambled, turning back to his computer.

you could tell seungcheol was excited, maybe he was excited that you would be leaving soon. your stomach sank at the thought, but you didn’t know why. seungcheol barely spoke to you, he couldn’t even look you in the eye most of the time. so, why did you feel bad about the thought of leaving him? you were snapped out of your thoughts when you realized dr. hwang had asked you a question. “um, if you could give me a moment alone with mr. choi, that would be great. i can take him out front once we’re done,” dr. hwang fiddled with his pen as he addressed you.

“yeah, of course. i’ll uh, i’ll just be in the waiting room.

after what seemed like an eternity, the two of them came out. dr. hwang smiled at you, and seungcheol looked nervous, finally putting a little weight on his foot with the help of some crutches. “thank you so much, dr. hwang. you’ve been so helpful,” you smiled at him. dr. hwang reciprocated it and patted seungcheol on the back. “mr. choi, look out for yourself. i’ll see you in a few weeks,” he said. seungcheol nodded.

the ride home was quiet, as always. by now you had grown used to it. when you arrived at seungcheol’s apartment and parked the car, he grabbed your hand before you could leave. “do you want to watch a movie tonight?” he asked. hold on, what? “we can order some take out or something.” maybe dr. hwang was wrong. maybe the swelling in his brain was actually worse.

your lack of response must’ve freaked seungcheol out. “we don’t have to! i was just thinking it could be a celebratory thing,” he tried to backtrack.

“no! i’d love- no, i mean, i’d like to watch a movie tonight. that would be nice,” you rushed to cut him off. your heart fluttered at the notion of watching a movie with seungcheol. maybe you could pretend just a little longer…

“what?” minjeong exclaimed. she was not happy with the current situation.

“minnie, when he asked me if i wanted to watch a movie with him my heart fluttered. what’s wrong with me?” you cried, flopping against the couch, turning down the volume on speaker phone. seungcheol had left to get showered and changed. luckily, you didn’t have to help him much with that anymore. “you’re still in love with him, ___,” minjeong sighed. “i feared this would happen. you cannot let him get in your head! remember how he treated you before! just yesterday he wasn’t even speaking with you, he’s probably just manipulating you or something.”

you couldn’t fathom him doing that. sure, he neglected you in your relationship, but he was never manipulative. “i don’t-” you began, but you were promptly cut off.

“you don’t get it, ___! you’re in a vulnerable state because you still love him and you’ve been waiting hand and foot to him, so he sees this as an opportunity to make something out of nothing.”

“if i love him, how is it nothing?”

“because you’re going to make it nothing. you can’t just let yourself fall back into his lap because he decided he wanted a movie night!”

“i don’t think it’s that easy.”

“you’re right, it’s not. that’s why you need to wrap up business there and get back to your life. your life where you can be free and meet whoever you want. where you don’t have to worry about the asshole who treated you like shit.”

“he didn’t treat me like shit.”

“he treated you like you barely even existed.”

you knew she wasn’t trying to be mean, but it did feel like she was opening an old wound.

so much for that dinner you made. the time you wasted was eating at you as you picked through the remnants of your food. it was your first day off in a while and you hoped to spend some of it with your boyfriend before having to go back to work the next day.

it was your bad to even think seungcheol would be home at the time he had said. you stared at seungcheol’s now cold meal. for the fifth time, you flipped your phone over to see what time it was. 11:47 pm and no word from him. you sighed and went to clear your plate. you wrapped up seungcheol’s meal and put it in the fridge. after all, he would be hungry when he got home.

“hello? ___, are you still with me?” minjeong snapped you out of your thoughts.

“yeah, sorry,” you rushed out. “look, i think seungcheol is almost out of the shower. i’ve got to go. i’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“i’m sorry if i come off too cold.” she sounded like she was regretting what she said earlier. she knew how to read you like a book even if it was just over a phone call. “it’s alright. you’re my best friend, i know you wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt me. now, i have to go now, for real this time,” you chuckled and hung up after you said goodbye to her.

you jumped a mile when you heard a clanking noise behind you. when you whipped around you saw seungcheol standing there, eyes wide, you felt something stir in your chest. he was leaning on a crutch with his leg wrapped in the bandages. he told dr. hwang that he wouldn’t wear the boot to bed. dr. hwang was reluctant but relented since the break was healing nicely and the boot wasn’t needed at night. his hair was damp, a plain white t-shirt clung to his body, and pajama pants hung loosely off his hips. something about this image looked so familiar, yet so distant.“sorry,” he mumbled leaning over to pick up the bowl he dropped, surprisingly it didn’t shatter on the hardwood floor. “no, wait, i’ll get it,” you said, pushing forward, frowning at the precarious nature of his stance. he straightened up and watched you pick up the bowl. “how long were you standing there? i could’ve helped,” you asked turning to go place the bowl in the sink.

“not long,” he rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes. “do you still want to watch a movie with me?” you nodded quietly and made your way to the couch. he followed behind and landed on the couch with a thud. “what do you want to watch?” you asked flipping the tv on.

“um, i’m not sure. i haven’t watched a lot of movies lately.” he shrugged. this was going to be harder than expected. instead of attempting to engage in this painful discussion, you opted to start scrolling through one of seungcheol’s million streaming apps.

you scrolled through movie after movie with varying enthusiasm levels from seungcheol. “stop, let’s just watch this one,” he suddenly said. if you were being honest, you stopped paying attention to the movie titles a long time ago. so when you saw “the notebook” as the selected movie, your jaw slackened. “you want to watch this?” you asked, making sure he meant that.

“i mean, i remembered when you showed me it, and i rewatched it recently. i really like it nowadays,” he said nonchalantly. you had shown him “the notebook” a long time ago. you had to beg him to watch it, and you remembered how he ended up crying by the conclusion. but now, it was strange to hear that he enjoyed the movie. not only that, but he remembered that you showed him the film. it was years ago, and he remembered. “okay, yeah, let’s watch it,” you said pressing play.

you were getting major deja vu while you watched it. seungcheol was curled up next to you, and somehow you found yourself curled up next to him. this hardly happened when you were together, and it made your heart hurt that it was happening after you had broken up. was a car accident what you needed to be close to him? you didn’t need to think about it now, not when you could smell his shampoo and fabric softener. it was so familiar, but you knew you couldn’t get too comfortable. after all, you weren’t his anymore, and he wasn’t interested. yet, something was scratching at the back of your throat. an urge. a desire. a feeling you thought was better to push down.

the movie was long over, but seungcheol had drifted off to sleep about twenty minutes before the movie ended. you didn’t have the heart to wake him, so you let him rest for a while before you lightly shook him awake. his eyes fluttered open and held your gaze with an expression you couldn’t pinpoint. “alright, sleeping beauty, time to get you into bed,” you smiled softly involuntarily running a hand through his hair. he seemingly leaned into your touch while looking around. “is the movie over? why didn’t you wake me?” he asked. you just shushed him quietly and helped him up. he held onto your shoulders and let you guide him to his bed. after a bit of work, you got him under the covers and on his pillow. when you moved to get up, his hand shot out and grasped your wrist. your neck whipped back at him. “what’s wrong?” you quizzed.

“stay,” is all he said, eyes closing.

you sighed. you couldn’t give in to him. you had set your boundaries, you were here to help that’s all. but, the longer you were with him, you realized the reasons why you hated him melted away within hours of being around him more. minjeong needed to be here to snap you out of it. “of course, he’s being nice to you now. don’t forget why you broke up in the first place,” she would’ve said. yet, she wasn’t here, and you were weak for him. as much as you would like to deny it, you knew you’d always crawl back to him. in this life and the next.

there couldn’t be any harm in staying with him, right? it was just one night. he wouldn’t try anything. he wasn’t like that. he didn’t even feel that way for you anymore. he definitely didn’t seem too bothered when you gave in and slid under the covers with him. to your surprise when you started to situate yourself, you felt his arms wrap under your body and pull you to the opposite side of the bed. just like old times. he always insisted to sleep closest to the door. he had told you it was a win-win for the both of you. he could have the comfort of feeling like he was protecting you, and you got the nice view out of his window on the opposite side of the room. you assured him back then that you didn’t need protection, but you never fought with him to switch positions.

you had grown used to his arm around your waist each night, and after you broke up you longed for his presence. you had cuddled your pillows and called minjeong. everything and anything to keep your mind off the empty space in your bed. so, now when you felt his arm wrap around you and his body pressed against yours, you froze. why did the thing you wanted for the past seven months cause you so much discomfort? being this close to him was like stepping into the salty waves at the beach with a cut you thought healed. your eyes began to sting, and you pleaded with your heart to not start shaking your body. you naturally moved closer to him when his grip became tighter around your waist, but your heart cried for the rest of the night.

when you woke up, you surprised yourself realizing you had a dreamless night. your chest hurt, but your eyes were dry. you turned over and noticed seungcheol’s side of the bed was empty. his boot was gone, so he must’ve put it on. you didn’t hear anything coming from the kitchen right outside the room, albeit his apartment was quite small and his living room was right there too. you slid on a hoodie and made your way out of his room to find where he went. maybe he was just as freaked out as you were, so maybe he just left to get some air. if you were him, you probably would’ve done to same. you wanted to kick yourself for falling into his lap again. maybe he regretted inviting you to stay, and now he was disgusted with himself for letting his ex sleep in the same bed as him again. your rational mind told you that wasn’t true. he wasn’t like that. yet, that’s what you told yourself when he show up late to numerous dates or just forget to message you.

you heard quiet arguing as soon as you stepped out of his room. you looked down to the front door and saw seungcheol leaning against the doorframe. his body wedged between the door and doorframe, effectively blocking your view of who was there. you quietly shuffled forward, trying not to startle him. “i just don’t understand why you’re here?” seungcheol asked, almost sounding stern.

“i’m just dropping off some paperwork,” the person on the other side of the door said. the voice sounded familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. “how’d you know where she was?” seungcheol grilled, sounding more frustrated with every passing second.

“look, dude, i’m just here to drop off some stuff from work. minjeong told me,” the guy tried again to reason with seungcheol. you recognized seungcheol’s tone, he got like that whenever he was jealous, but you couldn’t fathom why he would be jealous. you looked past seungcheol and saw changkyun standing there with a case file in hand. “oh my god, seungcheol, stop it. this is changkyun from work,” you nudged seungcheol to the side trying not to surprise him, but you were still upset he was berating your work friend.

“oh, hey, ___. minjeong sent me with these files. let me or minjeong know if you need anything else,” changkyun smiled at you. “i’ll let you go, you seem- um- preoccupied. but, we miss you at the office,” he glanced at seungcheol who was scowling at the ground.

“yeah, sorry about that. thank you for bringing this around. this is super helpful. i was getting tired of reading pdfs,” you laughed. “i’ll see you later.” changkyun nodded and left without another word. you shut the door and brushed past seungcheol. you heard an audible huff behind you but ignored it. after you dropped off the case of files in the office, breakfast was seemingly the best option for you.

seungcheol was already in the kitchen leaning against the fridge. it was highly inconvenient given you needed to get in there for some fruit. however, he wasn’t moving. “what are you doing?” you asked crossing your arms. he didn’t respond, just looking anywhere but at you. “what’s going on with you? what was with that attitude with changkyun?” you grilled, but you were only met with a scoff. now, that was weird. he sounded jealous, but there was nothing to be jealous of. “what’s wrong with you?” you frowned.

“why does it matter?” he mocked. you squinted your eyes at him. compared to last night’s situation, this was an entirely different person. “why does it matter? it’s just weird that he’d show up here unannounced,” seungcheol shrugged.

“he was here because minjeong sent him,” you stared him down.

“why couldn’t she come then? just seems like it’s a cover for him to see you. you didn’t tell me you were talking with someone else.”

“because i’m not talking to changkyun. i’m not talking to anyone. but, why does this matter so much to you? it’s not like he came in the house and started wrecking anything. he just dropped some stuff off.”

“we miss you at the office.”

“what?”

“that’s what he said.”

“i’m not following.”

seungcheol sighed and pushed himself off the fridge and over to his chair, groaning and stretching his leg once he was sitting. “god, ___, don’t be blind. he’s obviously into you,” he laughed humorlessly. now you were even more confused. “so what if he is? i’m not,” you shrugged, opening the fridge to get your fruit and yogurt.

“yeah, sure. whatever, that’s not the point,” seungcheol huffed again.

“then what is the point?”

“that he tried to come here and flirt with you when i’m right here!” he finally snapped. “it’s embarrassing! he looked at me with all this pity when i opened the door. i don’t want his pity. then you come around the corner, and he’s smiling ear to ear.” seungcheol looked like he was about to cry. you wanted to say something, but all you could was look at him, confused. “you pity me too. everyone does!” he rambled. “it’s so humiliating. and, and, i’m sure that you’d be happier at the office where he is. he’s more handsome than i am, and i’m sure he’s smarter and kinder than me. you deserve to go out and just leave me here. you don’t even want to be here. i see the way you look at me. it’s not the same way i look at you, so i couldn’t possibly as you to stay. why don’t you just go date a guy like that? i’m sure he can treat you better than- than me.”

you stood there dumbfounded. your heart ached for seungcheol, but you couldn’t stop the boiling anger in your stomach. how could he possibly think so lowly of himself? did he not see how you were still so infatuated with him? did he not realize the reason why you hadn’t talked to anyone new was because of him? and for him to accuse you of pitying him, after all the care you put into helping him get better. to accuse you of not wanting to be there, with him. you wouldn’t haven’t been here if you didn’t care. you knew you cared too much for seungcheol, for someone who you knew didn’t even care about you. what made him any different from back when you were dating?

“you’re so cruel,” you whispered, grabbing your food and heading to the office.

there was radio silence for the next few hours. you would occasionally hear something, but seungcheol never knocked or tried to come in. the tip-toeing around each other was killing you. it felt awfully familiar to when seungcheol became distant from you before the two of you broke up. work was monotonous and nothing was holding your attention. all you could think about was what seungcheol said. you didn’t realize he felt that way about himself, or you for that matter. it hurt, and it hurt even more to wallow in it when he was right on the other side of the door.

you couldn’t be the same person you were seven months ago. pushing down your concerns, hoping they would pass. they wouldn’t, you knew that, unless you talked to him. he would be getting better soon, and you could put this in the past. you could leave again once this was all over, never to look back. you couldn’t take another heartbreak because of him again.

so your resolve broke and you pushed yourself out of the office chair and went to find seungcheol.

he remembered the day you left like it was yesterday. he heard you gather some things from your room and left without another word. “yeah, i guess so,” he muttered to himself angrily. “you’re such an idiot,” he continued. he didn’t even understand why he said that to you. it was uncalled for, especially given you wanted to talk about your strained relationship. he knew he was distant, but he didn’t know what else to do. so, he pushed it down until he couldn’t take it anymore, well, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

not having you around the apartment for the first few weeks felt like torture. he had drafted and re-written several messages to you and even considered calling, but he never pulled through with any of it. his mind was constantly unfocused on his work. the work he sacrificed everything for. the work he tried so hard to keep up to help you, help the both of you. he couldn’t bring himself to eat as much as he usually did, when the pit of his stomach was killing him from the inside out.

now that you were gone he constantly tried to take his mind off of you. he couldn’t let a breakup disorient him like this. he had broken up with other people before, but never like this. he couldn’t stop replaying everything that went wrong in his mind, everything he could’ve done to stop it. maybe if he put up a fight you would’ve stayed. but, he didn’t fight at all. he cowered at the suggestion of breaking up, and instead of facing it, he fled and accepted fate. waves of uncertainty lapped at his feet and eventually, the waters rose until it was unbearable. if you wanted to break up with him then that’s what would happen, no matter what ran through his mind and heart.

no matter the fact he had a little velvet box in the bottom of his sock drawer.

he was going to a party. he said he would buy alcohol, so he did. while he was driving he felt something shift within him. he thought about all the parties he had taken you to, and how all parties with you there were so much more bearable. all he could think about was how bored he would be. he loved his friends, but something was missing if you weren’t also there sharing a drink or discussion with him. yet, he let joshua convince him to come out. joshua had told him not to drown in any more work. joshua saw how the work was wearing down his friend, and he couldn’t take it anymore. so, seungcheol was going to a party he didn’t particularly want to attend, but he was getting there, even if he felt himself push the accelerator down more than he should.

but something stopped him from going to the party, and now he felt like he was floating above his body. he felt waves wash over him, and when they retreated he felt cold and vulnerable. he felt dazed and had a throbbing pain in his head, leg, and heart. he remembered the beating rain against his windshield and feeling the tires give out on him. he remembered your smile and your fingers running through his then-long hair. you told him everything was going to be alright, and he believed you. then, there was a rhythmic beeping next to him, some rustling by him, and your voice was gone. his head hurt too much, but he forced his eyes open.

in some sort of last-ditch effort of hope, he thought it could be you. you could be there fixing some magazines in the room or adjusting the blinds. yet, he opened his eyes and he didn’t see you there, just a nurse organizing some of the tubes next to him. seungcheol tried turning his head around, groaning. the nurse noticed and left to go get someone. maybe it could be you. no, that wouldn’t make sense. it couldn’t be you, and it wasn’t. it was his mother. she cried and asked him if he was alright. she asked where you were and what he was doing, but he didn’t have a good response to any of her questions. when she started to pry about you, he realized he had forgotten to mention the fact you were broken up. she had called soon after it ended because it was time for her to call her son, but he went into auto-pilot and told her you were fine, and he just never got around to telling her the truth. she loved you, and he knew that.

he definitely couldn’t do it then. it would break her, just like it broke him.

when he saw you standing at the door behind his mother, he wanted to burst into tears, but it would probably hurt his lung. besides, he didn’t need you to see how broken up about it he was. everything hurt, but it only hurt more when he saw you. you looked gorgeous, and your voice was like music to his ears. what if you had a boyfriend? the thought flashed through his mind. any person would be lucky to date you, but the idea caused his stomach to roll.

your hair looked so pretty too, but your clothes looked like a mess. he hoped he didn’t cause you too much worry. yet, he was worried now. his lie was going to be exposed. he saw the way you looked at him, helpless and injured. you wouldn’t spare him, not after what he did. his mom was talking to you just like everything was normal, but he saw the look on your face. you were confused and probably angry. he knew you, and he knew you would correct his mom as soon as you could. so when she backed away and went to get something from the closet, he couldn’t tell what you were thinking, and that scared him.

the last thing he expected was for you to agree and help. he also expected you to correct his mother when she went on and on about how you were his girlfriend and how she knew how much you loved each other. he could sense your discomfort anytime he was around, so he made himself scarce and tried not to be a bother. what you were doing was already such a help to him, and he had no idea how he was ever going to repay you.

he recalled when you pushed him around in his wheelchair at the supermarket, and all he wanted to do was disappear. it was his first visit to the store for a while, and there was something especially embarrassing about having your ex push you around the market, even if they didn’t know he had broken your heart. he didn’t know why he agreed to come. he would feel your hands brush past his shoulders as you would reach to grab something before dropping it in the shopping basket sitting in his lap. the tiny bit of contact from you had him going insane. he wanted to apologize for having you here, for his mom calling, for lying, for breaking your heart. he was scared, that if he opened his mouth, his heart would betray him and he’d say something that would make you run away again. but, he knew it wasn’t the time for that, so whenever your fingers graze his shoulder he swallowed whatever apology or confession (whichever came out first) down until it reached the bottom of his heart.

you were wheeling him past the bakery and he saw the sweet milk bread he would always get as a treat on weekends. maybe you could share it again like you used to, but he doubted it. though, before he could process it, he was clearing his throat. you paused and he sensed you looking at him. “uh-,” he paused, coughing. “can, can we get the milk bread over there?” he asked. you looked around to where he was motioning. you saw it. he felt you pause. maybe he shouldn’t have asked. “it’s no big deal, actually. it was a dumb request. never-” he rambled but all of a sudden your hands brushed over his shoulders and you walked over to the table where the freshly baked bread was packaged. you inspected one and brought it back, placing it gently on the top of seungcheol’s basket. “do you need anything else?” you asked, quietly standing behind him again. he shook his head.

for the first few weeks, it was awkward and humiliating. he couldn’t bear you at his beck and call. he could barely even talk to you, too embarrassed. he needed to get out of the wheelchair as soon as possible. he willed his body to heal faster, so then maybe the pain that festered in his chest would go away. one night, he woke up and he was parched. he had run out of water, he must’ve forgotten to get more before he went to bed. he also noticed his stomach was growling. he had refused to eat anything for dinner. once again, his bad. it reminded him of the time when he would come home late to a dark home. he was starving, but he knew you had eaten. you had long gone to bed, but he smelled the food you cooked. he looked in the fridge and saw his helping there. he sighed. he knew it was your day off that day, but he couldn’t seem to draw himself away from his work. got too distracted.

so, he needed water and food, but to get there he would have to get out of his room and into the kitchen. specifically, he needed to get past you on the couch without waking you. pushing himself out of bed, he reached for his crutches. he got them secured under his arms and made his way out of his open door. you had insisted on keeping it open, so you could hear him if he needed anything. but, he saw the way you walked into his room deflated, leaving his dinner on his bedside table, cleaning the barely touched food an hour later, and retreating to the couch to sleep after a presumably hard day at work. he wouldn’t be able to bear it if he woke you up now.

he stepped as lightly as he could given his situation, but you were out like a light. he contained a chuckle seeing you all curled up on his couch. though, he did feel bad. the couch was no place to sleep for a long time. if only he could share his bed with you and not make it weird… he quietly ate a protein bar and got a glass of milk. he watched from the kitchen how smooth your breathing was. he frowned when you began to toss and turn. he wiped his mouth and moved over to you. after resting his crutches on the floor, he sat on the ottoman in from of the couch, closest to your head. he leaned forward and watched your troubled expression. sometimes he would press a kiss on your forehead, but that would be entirely inappropriate. yet, he couldn’t do anything while he watched this perfect person in front of him suffer.

so, his hand was reaching forward and caressing your cheek before he knew it. your skin felt amazing under his fingertips. he missed holding your hand, hugging you from behind, and kissing your lips. he wondered how he could’ve messed up this horribly. he felt your breath even out, and he noticed how your brow un-furrowed. gently pulling back his hand, he smiled and made his way back to his room. it was only then after he crossed the doorway, he realized what he had done. the clear boundary he had tried to maintain melted within those twenty minutes of him getting a midnight snack. he didn’t deserve the treatment he was getting from you. he wished you would yell and scream at him for what he did. resentment. he yearned for you to resent him, but no, you had to come and be the amazing person you were. he couldn’t let himself feel this close to you again.

but, he broke his promise. just like he always did. he invited you to sleep in his bed after a movie night he suggested. after offering, he realized he probably shouldn’t have offered the movie in the first place, but hindsight is 20-20. it felt too inappropriate, unspeakable even. especially, after he caught what minjeong was saying to you before you turned on the movie. he shouldn’t have eavesdropped, but minjeong was yelling on the other side of the phone and no matter how much you could turned down the volume, he still would’ve heard it.

“he treated you like you barely even existed,” minjeong had said.

now, he didn’t want to believe that, but he knew it was true. working longer hours, barely seeing you, and coming home at odd hours of the night were all factors which were purely his fault. he could’ve requested time off, but he didn’t. it was his ambition that blinded him. the thought that if he worked hard enough now, he could be with you more later. but, he had forgotten he wasn’t the only person in the equation, and you only had so much patience. the patience he had wrongfully wasted.

your back was turned to him. he didn’t know why it hurt so much given the situation. being face-to-face in bed would be too intimate. too dangerous. yet, that’s all he wanted. he longed to feel your body next to his, to know that what was once shared between you was still there. so, he took a risk. he reached forward and pressed his chest against your back, his arm wrapped securely around your waist.

he waited and waited for you to pull away, and much to his surprise, you never did. you stayed in his arms like old times, but he knew it couldn’t be like that. he didn’t know if he could ever have you like this again. the recovery period of you taking care of him was painful on a multitude of levels. he was giving you space since he already felt like a burden, and it appeared to him like he was the plague. it was for the best, but he still wanted to hold you and kiss you to show his thanks. all he could do was say thank you and quietly retreat back into his mind. so, he held you like it was the last time, which it likely was, and he fell into a deeper, quieter sleep for the first time in weeks. the waves retreated and did not come back for the rest of the night.

who was this guy standing at his door? why were you smiling so widely at this guy? why was this guy smiling so widely back at you? did he just sleep in the same bed with you when you had a boyfriend? so many questions, and so little patience left on his end. this guy was so handsome, with a sharp nose and intense eyes. he could see how you could go to someone like that, someone completely opposite of him. any hope of last night not being a one-off thing leaving his mind. the guy glanced over at him and gave him a look he was all too familiar with. the old ladies at the supermarket gave him this look. his mother gave him this look. even you sometimes. he was broken and mangled and people loved to look. so, to hide their nosiness, they concealed it with concern and pity. he hated that. sometimes you would do it, and he wanted to rip his hair out. he hated it when you would generate idle conversation or say his name like some sort of swear word. what ever happened to being your cheol?

the doubt came flooding back into his mind, and he was lost in the sea of his own thoughts again. the waves were back, and he didn’t know how to keep them at bay. the tide was coming in stronger, and he could feel every brick he had built crumble under the pressure. when could this conversation be over?

he didn’t mean to lash out at you and your work friend. it was the waves. the waves that splashed into his face. the water that fell into his throat and choked him. he had to spit it out or it was going to drown him. every little thing he had hidden away came out. the confessions, insecurities, and everything else that held him back now and back then. he just needed to get it out before the waves came crashing in on him again when you would inevitably leave.

“you’re so cruel,” you had said, and you were right. he was. how could he be so cruel to one of the only people who ever showed him unconditional kindness? it was over, and he knew it.

all of his memories felt disjointed. almost as if someone had glued them together into a scrapbook. you were trying so hard to follow what he was telling you. the entire time he refused to look at you. his hands were clasped together, face flushed. “i suppose that was a long winded way to say i’m sorry,” he said finally looking at you for the first time. “i’m sorry for treating you so horribly when we were together, and even now. i’m sorry for standing you up and coming home drunk. you’re right, i am cruel, and i will never forgive myself for how i treated you,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes.

you knew he had problems with anxiety and doubt, but you never thought it was this bad. you were mad at him, but you wished he had told you. told you about how he felt like he was drowning everywhere he went. “seungcheol, i-” you began but he cut you off.

“i understand if you want to leave. i can just have joshua take me to physical therapy and my appointments. i’ve asked you to stay for too long. it wasn’t right of me. if anything, i owe you so much. you shouldn’t have to be forced to be anywhere you don’t want to be,” he said.

you stared at him. you had never seen him so defeated. when you came to talk to him, you didn’t expect him to be the one prepared with an apology. you just wanted to talk, but now that you began piecing together the things he told you. you realized how much he did care. he saw the food you made for him. he saw the effort you put in. for some reason, that just made you feel a little better. you always felt like he didn’t see you, but he did. this entire time. “what if i want to be here?” you asked, meeting his gaze. his eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips. “then, i would ask you to stay. i would promise to treat you the way you deserve. i would make every wrong i made right with you,” he confessed, moving closer to you on the couch. he reached forward and grabbed your hand. “i'm sorry for being such an asshole to you. i would apologize every second of every day.anything to get you to trust me again,” he continued. “anything so i can be yours.”

your heart felt full. it was healing. for some reason, you believed him. minjeong would probably yell at you for “falling for his trap,” but you had a feeling he was telling the truth, that he wasn’t going to mess it up again. “then, let’s start over,” you smiled, eyes welling up. he lifted a hand and gently wiped the tears that threatened to fall with his thumb. “gladly,” he smiled. you pulled your hand away from the one he was grasping at, and extended it to him. “i’m ___, nice to meet you,” you smiled. he grinned, glancing between your face and your outstretched hand. “nice to meet you too. i’m seungcheol,” he said clasping your hands together. he felt the waves were receding, and by the look on your face, you felt it too.

you were out shopping for what felt like the fourth time this week. you just kept forgetting something on your list that honestly couldn’t wait until the next week. then your phone began to ring. you slid it out of your pocket and answered it. “what am i forgetting?” you asked as soon as the line connected.

“nothing, i was just wondering if you could get some milk bread,” the voice on the other side of the phone asked. you laughed quietly to yourself. “what’s the occasion?” you joked.

“it’s the weekend, and i love you,” seungcheol said. you felt your heart soar. you sighed happily and made your way over to the milk bread. you were still on the line with him, and you could hear him humming. maybe now was the time you brought it up. “so, you want the same kind from the bakery, right?” you asked, stalling.

“of course,” he scoffed. “the fresh ones from the bakery are obviously superior to the ones that one brand makes.” it was funny since he said it like it was obvious. you hummed and placed one of the loaves in your cart. “is there anything else?” you asked. you heard seungcheol shifting around. “nope, that should be all for me,” he replied.

“everything i’m getting is for you,” you rolled your eyes. he chuckled. you continued to chat with him as you walked through the store, picking up a few leftover things. you decided it would be a good time to end the call when you got to the register, but not before you brought it up. “look, cheol, i’m at the register, so i’ll have to go,” you said, getting in line.

“oh, okay, sounds good. i’ll see you at home?” he asked to confirm.

“yes, after i get back, though, can we talk about that red velvet box in your sock drawer?” you smirked.

“yeah, sure of co- wait! how do you know about that?” seungcheol took a second to process what you had told him. he sounded frantic on the other side of the phone, and it made you laugh. “oh, looks like the line is moving, i’ve got to go! we’ll talk more when i get back, right?” you smiled.

“yes, for sure, yes! we will be talking because you weren’t supposed to see that!” seungcheol exclaimed. “see you soon, i love you, ___.”

“i love you too, cheol,” you replied easily. because, in this life, you loved him, and he loved you back.

minli | sort of proofread! working on it… i think the plot makes sense… right… please say it does. this has sort of been my child for the past month or so… i actually used the max amount of pictures in this LOL ASLDKJ. please leave some feedback if you want :) likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated :)

tagging | @a-wandering-stay @cinnamoroxie @wonwoosthetic

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marvelnatr · 5 months

Text

Lingering love 18+

Warnings: Dom!Nat, Daddy kink, sub!reader, makeup sex, oral Natasha!receiving, strap on use, size kink, praise, a little mocking, breeding strap & kink.

I know I know. I started classes up again. But I’m getting back into the rhythm. Enjoy this smut as an apology. Not proof read!!!

Natasha’s POV:

“Y/N lets fucking go! We gotta get moving!”. I stood by the loading dock of the Quinn jet as Y/N threw her duffle in her seat beside her. She was visibly annoyed and pouting like a petulant child over the fact she had to do a mission with me. Closing the door I looked at her “look at me Y/N”. The girls eyes stayed trained to the pocket knife she was holding, fiddling with the blade and paying me no mind. Leaning over her I whispered “Y/N please, I don’t wanna be doing this anymore then you do”. I rested my hand on my ex-girlfriends arm, trying to gain a little of her attention, simply for her to shrug me off and go to her armory cabinet. Giving her the space she wanted I headed to pilot the plane.

I’m not surprised she needs space. I honestly thought I’d never see her again, she left the agency four years ago after our breakup. It was only recently Fury had the idea to bring her on this next mission. Y/N was smart and I hated to agree that we needed her expertise. We need someone who was going to always be one step in front of our target in the technological way and Y/N was the best we’d seen since Daisy. Not much about her has changed since she left. Her hair is a bit longer and she’s colder then I remember.

We were headed to Germany for the next two weeks to follow our target. He was good at covering his tracks. Phenomenal even. I put in the address to our safe house in Bremen. Of course Fury put us in the heart of one of the highest crime rated cities. Y/N had finished getting settled in and started reading her book. She used to sit up front with me, she was always mesmerized when it was clear enough to see the illuminated cities below us as we traveled. I miss those times.

- Time Skip -

Landing the Quinn jet in our private air field I turned on cloaking. Getting up and stretching after a long flight felt amazing. Glancing over at Y/N she was dead asleep with her book rested on her chest. Y/N always looked so peaceful when she’d sleep and I always hated waking her up. Sitting beside her I whispered gently “Y/N we’re here”. Shuffling away from me I sighed and placed my hand on her shoulder “Y/N wake up”. Jumping a little she woke up and stared at me. Panic flooded over her face for a second before it subsided. I watched her “I’m sorry hon I didn’t mean to scare you”. Huffing she threw the blanket off her lap and got up “you didn’t and don’t call me hon”. Nodding I watched her, rubbing my hands over my thighs before standing “alright then”.

Out of instinct I went for Y/N’s duffle bag to carry in but she stepped in front of me before I could and grabbed it, slinging the bag over her shoulder and glaring at me “I got it Natasha” nodding a bit I grabbed my own bag then headed to our safe house. After clearing the place I put my bags on the bed, the air was thick with dust as it had been a while since the safe house was used. I pointed to the window closest to Y/N “open that will you? I want air circulating through here”. An eyes roll and a huff later the window was opened, nodding I went into the bedroom, starting to place my weapons on the bed. A few seconds later I heard a grumble and a string of curse words flying from Y/N’s mouth down the hall. Leaning in view of the doorway I called out “what’s wrong?”. Looking at me she grumbled “there’s only one bed”. My eyes traveled to the bed then back to her, i didn’t mind sleeping in the same bed as her but Y/N definitely minded sleeping in the bed with me. Nodding I threw my pillows on the floor “I’ll take the floor”.

The next morning Y/N was up early. Earlier than me. Hearing the door open I grabbed my weapon, quickly turning to the door just to see Y/N standing with coffee. Rolling my eyes I put the gun back in the mid of my back while lightly scolding her “announce yourself when you walk into the house and tell me where you’re going”. Scoffing she sat at the table “no, I don’t have to listen to you. You’re not my dom”, placing down the knife on the cutting board I turned to her “stop being such a fucking smart ass. I know I’m not your dom. I’m trying to keep us safe. Do as your told”. Shutting up a bit Y/N put sugar in her coffee, stirring the cup as a silence fell over her. I mixed the peppers with the eggs and poured them into the pan “would you like an omelet Y/N?”. Seems that she had elected to ignore me as she brought her coffee to the room. Shaking my head I continued cooking.

A few minutes later I heard the door open again and rolled my eyes “for fucks sake Y/N what did I just say-“ just as I finished my sentence Y/N was in the hallway shooting at the man in our safe house “come on miss black widow fucking help me out here!” Drawing my gun I shot at the mans hand, taking him down then turning my attention to the man who had Y/N in a head lock. Running over to her I took him down as well, Y/N bent over with her hands rested on her knees to catch her breath, wheezing out “I had him”. Rolling my eyes I looked at her for a second scoffing “clearly”. Standing up she rubbed her neck “that was sarcastic” I laughed while checking my magazine and put it back in “no shit”. Y/N stepped over the body and looked at me, clearly she was annoyed. She had no right to be. I saved her ass. Still she spat “will you knock it off? I can handle myself perfectly fine”. Ignoring her I began to pull the weapons off the body “obviously you can’t” . Y/N glared at me then started to leave with gritted teeth, stomping through the house like a petulant child. I watched her, raising my eyebrows and giving her a glare “get your ass back here and help me with these bodies”

-Time skip-

Your POV:

After moving the bodies with Nat I just wanted to curl up in a ball and hide. I hated the way she still had a hold of me. The way a part of me still loved her after all these years. Getting up off the bed knocked on the door again “Natasha hurry up I really have to fucking pee”. A few seconds later the door swung open. Nat was wrapped in a towel still drying her hair with the towel. I stared at her for a minute. Inhaling the scent. She didn’t change her perfume. It’s still the same. Snapping her fingers she sang a little “earth to Y/N? Hello??”. The snapping broke me from my thoughts as I watched her “hm what?”. Natasha rolled her eyes “don’t you have to pee?”. Nodding I went passed her “right yeah. Thanks!”.

Finishing up I washed my hands and stared at myself in the mirror, unlocking the door and leaving it slightly open. Natasha came up behind me in sweatpants and a t-shirt “excuse me”, Nat reached under my arm and grabbed her tooth brush, dipping it in the water before swiping toothpaste over it and brushing her teeth. I have no fucking clue how she never made a mess of her mouth, it always baffled me. She’s so fucking pretty. She must’ve noticed me staring cause she raised her eyebrows at me “what is it Y/N?”. Clearing my throat a little I grabbed my hand towel, drying the water off my hands “nothing”. Natasha gave off her infamous smirk, folding her arms over her chest and taking the toothbrush out of her mouth. Looking up at her I tilted my head “what?”. Shaking her head she spit into the sink and rinsed her mouth, never breaking the cocky expression. I pushed her a little “why are you looking at me like that?”. Smirking at me she leaned against the counter “you’re blushing”, I felt my body heat up a little “I am not!”. Laughing nat placed her hand on my arm, teasing me and rubbing with a mocked pouted lip “mmm sure baby sure”

I felt my face heat up at the pet name and pushed her a little “oh shut up”. Laughing again she walked out of the bathroom “whatever you say hotshot”. Once I had finished up in the bathroom I headed to the room to see Nat laying in the bed and watching TV. We had watched TV in silence last night and I didn’t mind it. We liked the same shows. Getting comfy I climbed into bed shivering. It was so fucking cold here and I didnt really pack any warm pajamas. Looking over me Nat grabbed her hoodie and held it out for me. Shaking my head I whispered “I’m okay”, shaking her head she held it out more “take it Y/N, I dont want you getting sick”. Nodding a bit a took it and put it on. Staring at the small smile pulling at Nats lips.

The confession fell from my lips quicker then I could think, playing with my hands I mumbled “I miss you Natasha”. Natasha’s eyes left the screen as she watched me, her eyes pausing to examine me, as if she was unsure I was telling the truth or not. I watched as she processed my words. After a few minutes she sat forward “are you sure Y/N?”. Continuing to play with my fingers I nodded “I miss you. I miss your voice and your touch and your love. We let go too early”. She nodded and opened her arms for me, beckoning me to lay on her chest. Happily I rested my head down, my hand draped over her stomach. I continued to watch her lips. The lump in my throat still too afraid to ask for a kiss. But like always Natasha knew me. Knew my mannerisms. Natasha leaned down, pressing her lips to mine. My world felt whole again.

Natasha’s POV:

Y/N became putty in my lap. Her body sunk into mine as I kissed her. Petting her head I pulled away and whispered “would you like to try again love?” She nodded “hating you was the most exhausting thing I’ve ever done”. Smiling softly I pet her head and whispered “I’m sorry for how I acted years ago, it wasn’t right”. Y/N nodded and whispered “me too, I don’t know what was wrong with me”. Nodding I pet her head “so…what made you want to come back?”, a red tint fell over her cheeks as she whispered “I-I had a few partners….every time we did stuff all I could think about was you”. Jealousy and pride flooded through my body. Y/N wasn’t just my girlfriend she was my sub. I was proud all she thought about was me but the thought of someone else touching her drove me wild. Grabbing her jaw I looked at her “poor thing, I conditioned you didn’t I? Made you so addicted to daddy’s dick it’s all you could think about. You know you always fit me like a sleeve darling” a small whimper fell from her lips as I rubbed her jaw tutting “oh baby, tell me what you want”. Fiddling with her shirt she whispered “I-I want you to fuck me”

Smirking I nodded and rubbed her hip “how do you want me to do that?”. A whimper fell from her lips, I could tell she was getting frustrated. Tears pricked her eyes as I chuckled “oh baby, those pretty tears won’t get you any sympathy. You know I love seeing you cry”. A red tint fell over her cheeks, her eyes continuing to watch her shit. Watching her I snapped my fingers, the noise gaining her attention while I kept hold of her jaw “speak up baby”, I could feel the heat of her cheeks on my hand as she stuttered out “f-fingers and strap”. Nodding I rubbed her cheek “you’ll have to earn it baby, why don’t you go ahead and show me how sorry you are”. Taking off my pajama shorts I watched Y/N, her eyes lit up at the sight of my cunt and I chuckled “come on baby”.

Finding herself between my legs she looked up at me one last time. Nodding I placed my hand on the back of her head, beginning to guide her as she kitten licked my cunt. Her tongue ran through my folds, the feeling earning a moan from my lips. Pleasure surged through my body as I rutted my hips into Y/N’s face. Her moans causing more pleasure as I praised “good girl, fuck you’re doing such a good job for me baby”, I felt her tongue slope into me, my knuckles gripped the sheets while she began to rub my clit “f-fuck baby you’re gonna make me cum”. Gripping her hair into a makeshift ponytail I pulled at her while I came. A moan and a whimper falling from her lips at the newfound pain.

Releasing her hair I smiled down at her “you did such a good job for me love”. A red tint fell over her cheeks as she squirmed. Laughing I leaned forward “so fucking needy huh?”, catching her lip between her teeth she nodded, her embarrassment flooding her face. Sitting up I brought my thumb to her lip, gently pulling it out while whispering “it’s okay sweet girl, I know it’s been a while since you’ve been fucked properly”. Looking up at me Y/N whispered, the sentence barley audible “I’m gonna be really tight…”, clearing my throat a little I rubbed her chin. Of course I wanted to just fuck her with my strap right then and there. Let her feel the pain of the stretch. It’s what she deserves. Especially with the little attitude she gave me earlier. Kissing her gently I whispered “I’m going to get my strap, whatever time I’m gone is the time you have to stretch yourself out. Once I’m back you’re getting fucked”. Y/N quickly brought her hand down to her cunt, working on slipping two fingers in. I admired her for a moment before going to put on my strap. Luckily for her I grabbed the breeding one. And you bet your ass I was going to fill her up.

Walking back into the room a whimper fell from her lips. Chuckling I made my way to the bed then hovered over her. I watched for a minute. The way her chest was rising and falling, how flushed her face was. Stroking my hand over her cheek I smiled “so pretty, so fuckable for daddy hm?” Nodding she whimpered “y-yes daddy”. I sat up on my kneels and pulled her to me by her neck “come here baby, come get daddy nice and wet for you”. Grabbing the faux cock in her hand she began to suck, the job she was doing was damn near sad. Only taking half the dildo in her mouth. I tapped her cheek with my hand, her eyes quickly met mine as I watched her “you know damn well how I taught you to suck dick. Quit the straight shit and suck my strap properly baby. I don’t want to have to help you”. Y/N quickly fixed her mistake and began sucking me properly. Her pretty little gagging noises as tears began to prick her eyes. I could watch her do this all fucking day. Matter of fact she has before. That was a very fun punishment to conduct.

After a few more minutes I pulled her off “lay on your back detka”. Gently she laid down. The wet spot forming on the sheets from her cunt. Tutting I rubbed her hip “such a messy girl already, my poor bunny. So fucking desperate”. I teased the strap over her entrance, slipping the tip of the dildo in just to take it out. Just as she was about to open her mouth in another whiny protest I slipped into her. Filling her in one swift move. A small choked cry mixed with a moan fell from her lips. Leaning over her I kissed her “shhh baby I know, oh I know love, you’re so fucking tight for me”, whimpering she watched me “i-It’s too big daddy, it wont fit” chuckling I rubbed her hip “it’s all the way in bunny, you’re just tight. Don’t worry, daddy will make sure to stretch you out”. Moaning her head fell back into the pillow. My hands made their way to her hips as I lightly pinned her down, beginning to fuck into her. She looked so fucking pretty like this. More moans fell from her lips as she gripped the sheets. Looking at her I mocked a little “what? You’re gonna cum already baby? But daddy just started”. Y/N cried a little and whined “please, please let me cum please”. Tutting I shook my head “no bunny, you’re gonna have to wait, daddy wants to make sure you’re properly bred”

Y/N’s eyes widened in excitement, her cunt clenching around my strap slightly. Smirking I fucked into her “yeah, you want daddy to breed you? Make you mine again?” Another moan fell from her lips as she breathed out “yes daddy please, please fill me up”. Smirking I wrapped my hand around her throat then began fucking her into the mattress. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure as she began to whimper “p-please, I wanna cum daddy please”, giving in I nodded “cum for me baby, soak the sheets and stop thinking for a while”. Y/N’s back arched as she moaned, her screams ringing throughout the room while I filled her up, degrading her and praising her through it. My cum painting her velvety walls white. “That’s it bunny, my little breeding bitch huh? You’re doing so fucking good for daddy”. Her orgasm was nothing short of beautiful. The way her legs shook. The sounds she made. I stayed inside her while she came down from her high, rubbing her cheek and wiping the tears beginning to stain her face.

After a few minutes I rubbed her cheek “you doing okay love?” A small content hum fell from her lips as she cuddled into me. She’s so floaty and I love it. Gently pulling out I chuckled “alright my floaty girl, let’s get you cleaned up and we can cuddle”. After a nod I picked her up and ran us a bath. Joining her in the tub as he rested on me. After all this time she still fit into me like a puzzle piece. Her body weight was just perfect. I definitely missed my girl.

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zepskies · 4 months

Text

The Old-Fashioned Way

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: You and Dean are having trouble trying to start a family. What happens when you turn to a spell for a possible solution? [Soulmate AU]

AN: Happy Valentine's Day! ❣️ Welcome back to the Never Say Goodbye-verse, my first ever Soulmate AU! Feels appropriate to celebrate today with some soulmates lol.

Honestly, I have really missed these two. I can’t believe it’s almost been a year since I wrote this series! And I’ve been wanting to find a way to come back to it, so when I recently got this request, I couldn't resist:

The reader finds out she is pregnant and Dean’s reaction.

But of course, I couldn’t make it that simple… This story takes place five years after the Bonus Tracks (3-part sequel).

Word Count: 5,000

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship (marriage). Soulmates, angst, issues in pregnancy, hurt/comfort, fluff, implied smut.

❤️ Series Masterlist

Today marked five years that Dean had been an officer of the Sioux Falls Police Department.

After twenty-eight odd years of committing felonies of varying degrees…mostly for the greater good, he still found it strange sometimes.

He’d been partnered with his father-in-law, Jack, and by now, Dean had finally lost his sense of “imposter syndrome.”

Jody bought him a pie to commemorate the occasion, and while a little embarrassed, he wasn’t mad about it. The precinct employees now shared the dessert on paper plates from their respective desks and cubicles.

Dean sat in the bullpen with Jack (who was on a call), Jody, and even Jessie Deluca, the boy he’d once arrested for stealing candy and groceries from a gas station.

Well, Jessie wasn’t such a kid anymore. He was now their 18-year-old intern.

“How’s the boysenberry?” Jody asked Dean. Her lips curved upward when he turned to her with a crumb-covered smile.

“Real good,” he said.

She couldn’t help but laugh a little. “I can’t with this. Come ‘ere.”

She grabbed a napkin and leaned over to wipe at his mouth the way a mother would her errant child. Dean just rolled his eyes.

“Really?” he snipped.

“You look like my five-year-old son after a round of SpaghettiOs,” she said.

“Makes you wonder how his wife deals with him,” Jessie muttered under his breath while he entered expense reports into his computer. Never mind that he had a purple berry stain around the corner of his mouth.

Dean shot him a wry look, along with his crumpled napkin.

“I don’t wanna hear that from a punk like you,” he teased. “You haven’t had a girlfriend since…what, junior prom?”

Jessie fended off the stained napkin with a grimace. But he also smarted at the dig. His arms crossed defensively as he leaned back in his chair.

“As a matter a fact, I’ve got a date on Friday,” he sniffed. “And no, I’m not telling you her name.”

Dean and Jody shared an amused look.

“Aww, look at him, pretending he’s got a date,” Dean said. He fought a deeper grin when Jessie threw the disgusting napkin back at him.

“Fine! Her name’s Annie. You happy now?” Jessie said.

Dean shared another look with Jody.

“Aww, he’s actually got a date,” said Dean. He smirked at the kid next. “Lemme know if you need to borrow some cologne. Chicks dig that.”

“Ugh,” Jessie groaned. He leaned his elbows on his desk and pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes. He knew he’d be catching flack on this for the rest of the week.

Dean chuckled, but before he had a chance to tease their intern some more, his cell phone rang. It was you, and he felt his good mood continue as he answered.

“Hey, baby.”

“Hey, how’s the day going?” you asked.

“Good,” he replied. “We’re on lunch break. Jody got me a pie for my five-year mark at the PD.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet…literally. She knows you too well,” you laughed.

He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, she really does.”

“Tell her and everyone else I said hi.”

“Will do,” he said with a smile. “You just callin’ to check up on me?”

“Well, that, and…when are you getting home tonight?” you asked. The smooth, leading note of your voice had Dean’s lips curving into a smirk.

“Ah, well…” He pushed away from his desk and stepped away from the bullpen for a little privacy in the hall. “That depends. What’s going on?”

“Let’s just say…I have an idea,” you replied. It had Dean’s brows raising. You’d been having a lot of ideas for the past year, and he’d been more than ready and willing for most of them.

“Oh, yeah?” he intoned. While he leaned against the wall in the main hallway of the precinct, his arm crossed under his elbow as he continued holding the phone to his ear. “What’d you have in mind?”

“You’ll just have to find out,” you said.

It only took his brain about a moment and a half to compute.

“All right. In that case, I’ll try to be home promptly at six, barring there’s no shootouts at the 7-Eleven,” he quipped.

“Ugh, please, don’t even joke about that,” you said, your tone sobering.

Dean realized, without even having to read his soulmate’s thoughts, that you were reminded of the last time an explosive incident happened at the local gas station, just two weeks before their wedding day. He dimmed as well.

“Yeah, ‘m sorry,” he said, swiping a hand over his mouth. “Uh…okay. I’ll see you tonight, sweetheart.”

“Okay, be careful,” you said. You always said it—in the morning, whenever he left for work, whenever you two managed to talk during the day. It was routine, but it also wasn’t.

And you still wished him a good rest of his day before you hung up. Dean pocketed his phone and returned to the bullpen, where Jody was putting away the rest of the pie. He eyed her just to know exactly where she was setting it down in the kitchen, for future reference.

Jessie peered up from his computer and asked if that was you on the phone.

“Yeah, she says hi,” Dean replied.

Jessie smirked. “‘Course she does. I’m her favorite.”

Dean shot him a look, knowing the kid liked you probably even more than he liked Dean. You’d become like a big sister to Jessie…but it didn’t stop Dean from occasionally being annoyed.

“Shut up and eat your pie.”

Dean arrived that night, more or less on time, to find that you’d cooked up a feast. It was laid out across the dining table: steak, scalloped potatoes, carrots and broccoli, and even freshly baked cornbread with butter.

“Is it my birthday again?” he asked, despite it already being February.

He ventured into the kitchen where you were getting two bottles of beer. You looked up at him with a smile when he came over and held you from behind. You enjoyed the warmth of his body pressed against your back, while his hands found your hips.

“I cook all the time, Dean,” you pointed out. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head in greeting.

“Hmm. Yeah, but now my spidey senses are tingling,” he said.

You set down the beer before turning in his embrace and twining your arms around his neck. Already he could feel your anticipation through the soul bond, but that was all you were letting him sense. You were keeping your walls up a bit, to stop him from hearing your thoughts. In this case, it felt like a tease.

You tilted your head, a smile playing across your lips. “Oh, yeah?”

Dean smirked down at you. “Oh, yeah.”

You laughed and let him greet you properly with a kiss. You returned it, affectionately caressing his cheek, but you stopped him before he could start pressing you harder into the counter. You held up a placating hand against his chest.

“Wait, wait, the food’s gonna get cold,” you said. And all too quickly, you’d extricated yourself from his arms and went to finish placing the silverware on the table. Dean begrudgingly followed suit by helping you with the glasses and plates.

Dinner was delicious. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a steak that good; you two had been scrounging and saving to get out of this apartment and buy a house, along with other things you and Dean had been planning for your future.

By the time the leftovers were put away and the dishes were put in the dishwasher, he started to sense that you were ready to come around with the real reason you’d called him at work today, let alone made such a nice and expensive meal. You went over to where he stood at the kitchen sink and rubbed his arm.

“Hey,” you greeted.

Dean tried to stifle his knowing smile. “Yeah?”

But when he looked over at you, he realized you seemed nervous, not flirtatious. You were serious, and now, he was concerned.

“What?” he asked.

You sighed, hesitating for a moment. Then you went over to a nearby drawer and got some rubber gloves you always kept at work and at home—the kind doctors wore.

You went for your large work bag that normally stored your laptop and files, and instead, you pulled out an old book. Dean’s brows raised of their own accord, considering the last time you accidentally trifled with a book like that.

“What the hell is that?” he asked, with some trepidation. You laid the book out on the kitchen counter.

“It’s a journal of some kind, written in Latin, dating back from the late 1500s. Can you believe that?” Your head raised from where you were examining the cover and spine, but Dean was incredulous.

“What’re you doing with that?” he asked. Your lips pursed, and he felt a tendril of your guilt.

Most likely, you’d taken it from the museum where you worked without permission. You were in charge of the growing library of ancient texts that were stored there, and most of them were too old and valuable for exhibition, even behind glass. He doubted you were even allowed to open this book, let alone “borrow” it from the museum.

You sighed and held up a placating hand. “Okay, Dean, just hear me out.”

You opened the book to a page you’d placed a strip of paper in for bookmarking purposes. You pointed at a page filled with scrawled words that Dean didn’t really understand. Sam was always better at reading Latin.

“That is a fertility spell,” you said.

The weight of that fell between you for a moment, rendering Dean speechless. It took a few seconds for his brain to register what you were saying, followed quickly by a sad, contemplative frown as he stared back at you. You were serious about this, even hopeful.

“Sweetheart, we don’t need that,” he said, shaking his head. Your expression firmed, though it became touched with melancholy.

“It’s been a year, Dean,” you said. “We’ve been trying for a year, and I’m still not pregnant.”

He blew out a breath. “The doctor said—”

“We’ve done everything the doctor said,” you snapped. “Fertility treatments are either going to take too long or are too expensive, and they still carry risks.”

“And this isn’t a risk?” Dean shot back, gesturing at the book. “You don’t know if this will work, or what the hell it’ll really do to you.”

Your brows furrowed, but you didn’t back down. You held your hands to your hips.

“Uncle Bobby said it’s legit,” you said. Dean blinked in surprise. He shifted back on his heels and crossed his arms.

“You ran this by Bobby before me?” he said. You could feel the small lance of his upset, as well as see it across his face.

You bit the inside of your lip. “I just wanted to make sure!”

Dean took in a deep breath. He mentally counted to five.

“What exactly did he say?” he asked.

You paused at that. “…Well, he said it was a real spell.”

His brows rose. “And?”

“And…that magic is unpredictable and we should talk about it first. But that’s why we’re talking now!” you reasoned.

Your husband’s gaze lifted heavenward as he threw up his hands in aggravation.

“Dean—” you tried, but it didn’t stop him from snatching up the book. Despite your protests, he took it with him into the master bedroom you shared and shoved the book into his nightstand. You had followed him this far, but you stopped short when he turned around to face you.

“I will check this out,” he said, and his tone boded no argument. “But for the record, I’m against this. Magic is unpredictable at best, and not for nothing, it always comes at a price. I’ll be damned if you’re gonna pay it again.”

You paused. Hearing the vehemence in his tone, feeling the force of emotion behind his words, and your own circling memories of being possessed by a magic-wielding goddess…it had you nodding in agreement, even as tears welled up in your eyes.

Dean faltered a little inside. Always the damn tears. He gathered you into his arms and held you close in comfort. He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“We’ll figure this out. I promise,” he said.

You tried to believe him.

Late that night, however, you couldn’t help yourself.

Once you were sure Dean was asleep beside you, hearing his deep, even breaths, you made your move. Dressed in just an old college shirt and some pajama shorts, you slid out of bed and tiptoed over to his nightstand to get the book.

You took it into the kitchen and started assembling the ingredients Bobby had reluctantly helped you translate. (He didn’t know that you had taken a couple of items from his house for the spell.)

You prepared them in a bowl. The resulting liquid looked brown and disgusting. You mixed it around, grimacing at the smell, and carefully poured it into a glass. The last thing the spell required was a few drops of your blood, and then you were supposed to drink it.

God, this is terrible, you thought. Part of you couldn’t believe you were going through with this, but…you grabbed a kitchen knife in order to make a shallow cut on your palm.

The steel was poised against your hand. You took a fortifying breath, but before you could cut into your skin, Dean grabbed your wrist with a strong grip, startling a gasp out of you.

“What the hell are you doing?!” he said, or more like shouted. He was irate, his voice bounding off the walls of the apartment.

You knew he had every right to be, and you didn’t have a good answer for him. Shock had stifled you into silence.

Dean let go of you and took the glass next. He peered in disgust at the concoction inside, but he quickly dumped it into the sink and ignored your protests. He threatened to burn the damn book next.

“Dean, stop! Please,” you said tearfully as you stilled his hands on the book. “If there’s some kind of price to the spell, I’ll pay it!”

“What’re you talking about! Are you crazy?” he asked, through furrowed brows. You squeezed his hands.

“Believe me, I love what we have. I love our life, my job, all of it,” you said. “But I want a family, and I want it with you.”

Dean started to soften at that, when you met his eyes. You paused, taking in a shaky breath.

“It should be simple, but it’s not," you said. "I just can’t understand why it’s so impossible. Why…why there’s something wrong with me.”

Dean’s anger broke down, bit by bit the more you spoke. He let go of the book and reached for you. He held you against his chest, rubbing your back as you quietly wept. You tried to stifle it, but that just made your body tremble even more. He did his best to steady you, rocking you back and forth. His eyes closed for a moment.

You both knew that the expensive fertility doctor hadn’t found anything wrong with either of you, even after a month of testing.

“In certain cases, it just takes longer for some couples,” she’d said. But clearly, you had just been blaming yourself. Dean couldn’t abide that.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he said firmly. “Believe me, I want that too. But I also want to make sure you’re safe.”

Emotion clogged in his throat when he thought about what might’ve happened if he hadn’t stopped you. And in turn, you sobered even more when you managed to pick up on his thoughts.

“If something would’ve happened, and I was too late to stop it,” he said, clearing his throat. “…I just can’t, okay?”

After a moment, you nodded. You allowed yourself to rest against his chest and try to calm the racing of your heart. All the while, you tried your best not to resent him for stopping you.

The next day was a Saturday. You slept in because your body needed it, after the stress of last night. When you woke up, Dean wasn’t beside you. His keys and the Impala were gone, but he’d left you a text: he’d gone to your uncle Bobby’s place.

And you saw that he’d taken the book as well. Predictable.

You felt bad for how you tried to go behind your husband’s back, but if you were honest with yourself, you were still upset at him for stopping you, even if you understood why he did it.

You sat on the edge of your bed. Not for the first time since you and Dean were separated by miles of roads and his family’s mission to find the thing that killed his mother, you found yourself praying.

Please, God…or if there’s even anyone up there…please help me.

For a while, there was silence in the room.

But even if your eyes were open, you wouldn’t have seen the being that was standing in front of you. He stared down at you with a tilted head, finding himself a bit too curious. Hesitantly, he reached his hand out and touched your forehead.

You didn’t completely register the feeling that washed over you. It was like the tingling of a breeze across your skin. You took it for a chill in the room as you shivered a little. Then you opened your eyes, and resigned yourself to starting your day.

Castiel left the room with but a thought and a flutter of wings.

He knew he was only supposed to observe Michael’s vessel, not his soulmate. And yet, with one touch, he had sensed the rare genetic defect your doctor had missed.

Your mother had unknowingly suffered the condition as well. Your father never told you this, but she’d nearly lost you in the early stages of her pregnancy. It had been a miracle that you were born at all.

Castiel fixed the problem.

He knew what Uriel, or even Naomi would say. Perhaps they didn’t need to know, in this case. They were both far too busy for worldly trifles. Even so, Castiel knew he wasn’t authorized to heal you.

Still, it felt…right. And so, he did it.

It confused him.

…Maybe it isn’t something to be closely examined, he thought.

With that agreement within himself, he resolved to leave that decision behind him, and continue watching from afar. Those were his orders, after all.

Visiting Bobby Singer wasn’t as productive as Dean wanted it to be. The men had been arguing in Bobby’s living room for close to an hour.

Dean was upset with him for translating that goddamn spell for you, but the old man didn’t have a good answer. They both knew you were like a daughter to him.

“She came in hot, all damn stubborn and sass up to here,” Bobby said, holding a hand up to his forehead. “But you try sayin’ no when the waterworks starts.”

…Dean could concede that, but he rubbed his face in frustration.

“What do I do here, Bobby?” he asked, holding up the spell book in question. Apparently, it was more like a journal; it was rumored to have belonged to a sixteenth-century witch named Rowena. “I don’t trust this thing. Deep in my gut, I know it.”

Bobby considered him for a moment. In fact, he gave Dean a long-suffering look that made him really see Bobby’s age.

“Then trust your gut, son,” was all he said.

Dean returned home with a peace offering: some apple crumble pie. You were lying on the sofa watching mindless TV, still in your pajamas. Your mental walls were down, so Dean could both see and feel how miserable you were.

He took out the pie from the small bag of groceries he carried and held it up so you could see.

“I come bearing sugar,” he said. He also set down a bottle of wine on the dining table. You were focused on the pie, however.

“Who’s that for, me or you?” you dryly remarked.

“I got ice cream too,” he said, shaking the grocery bag.

You smiled a little, but he could feel through the bond that you were still sour at him. He sighed and went over to you. He set down the bribery on the coffee table and settled a hand on your pajama-clad thigh.

“Sweetheart, I am sorry.”

Sighing, you turned off the TV and sat up against the other end of the couch. You eyed him with a frown.

“You’re not sorry about chucking the spell,” you accused. Or for stealing the book you’d eventually have to bring back to work, lest your boss notice something amiss in the inventory.

“No, I’m not,” said Dean. “It was dangerous. I felt it. And that gut feeling? That’s what’s saved me more times than I can damn count.”

You were still upset, you couldn’t deny…but you understood his point. When he beckoned you over, you were more willing to go to him. After you scooted closer, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Look, I’ll go to whatever doctors you want, try whatever treatments, however long it takes,” he said.

You sighed, but you eventually agreed with a teary nod. “Okay. Thank you.”

Even with that, Dean wasn’t convinced that he was getting through to you. He was picking up on a thread of hopelessness that you were trying to hide.

He’d just have to change that.

“But…” He earned your attention by squeezing your side. His lips formed a grin. “I still think we can do this the old-fashioned way.”

He slowly rubbed a hand up and down your back. With the other hand, he reached for your face, tracing your lower lip with his thumb. You smiled slightly at his teasing. Part of you wanted to heed the suggestion in his eyes, and the familiar warmth and promise in his touch. The other, more vulnerable part of you hesitated.

When you caught sight of something over his shoulder, you had to smile a little more.

“I see you got a bottle of Merlot,” you said. A notable upgrade from beer. You couldn’t remember the last time Dean had willingly bought some “bougie-ass” wine.

“A little pie, a little booze…” you noted.

Dean grinned. “I’m thinking we have a not-so-quiet night in.”

Your brows rose, and you hummed in surprise. “Is my husband trying to butter me up?”

“Nah,” he said, tilting your face back up to his. “Your husband’s trying to seduce you.”

You giggled at that…at first. But it seemed he was serious.

You accepted his passionate kiss. Closing your eyes, you reached blindly for his shirt and held on while his lips moved ardently against yours. Through the bond, you felt his desire like it was your own.

In the five years you’d been married, and the years you were together even before, there were often moments where it was impossible to discern what was him and what was you.

The beautiful thing about it was, that part didn’t matter too much. Especially not when you and Dean became a tangle of limbs, lips, and tongue on the couch. He ridded you of your threadbare pajamas, and you helped him halfway out of his shirt and jeans before he yanked the rest of it off himself.

And all while he drew lusty moans and sighs and pleasure from your body in the comfort of your living room, the ice cream slowly melted in its container on the coffee table—completely forgotten, along with the pie.

That night, you lied awake in his arms for a while. Round one on the couch had migrated to rounds two and three in the bedroom, and you were almost too exhausted to sleep.

It had been months since you and Dean had sex without thinking of calendars and timing, optimal positions and ovulation.

This felt right, you thought, as you stroked his arm that was wrapped around your waist. Even though your skin was sticking to his under the sheets and your frizzy hair was probably tickling his neck, he didn’t seem to mind.

Dean? you tried through the bond, seeing if he was awake. He felt like he was still in-between wakefulness and sleep. At your prodding though, he slipped back into the former.

“Hmm?” he replied. You let out a sigh in the dark.

“I’m sorry I kind of tried to take matters into my own hands, with the spell.”

He hmphed in response. “Kinda?”

Your lips twitched upwards.

“This is a ‘together’ thing,” you said. “I made it all about me.”

Dean shook his head at that. He responded through the bond. No, you didn’t.

I did, you insisted. You were right to stop me. I didn’t care about the consequences…but that’s not fair to you. To either of us.

He took that in with a deep sigh of his own.

“It’s okay. We want the same thing,” he said. “And we’ll get there, baby. Don’t you worry.”

“What makes you so sure?” you asked.

“…I don’t know. I just am.”

You closed your eyes, and once again, you tried to believe him. You let his heartbeat and the sound of his steady breathing lull you to sleep.

Nine weeks later…

You were alone in the bathroom at seven in the morning. After almost a month late on your period, you were also staring at two positive lines on your last pregnancy test.

Ho…ly…shit.

Dean was already at work. This wasn’t something you wanted to tell him over the phone, however.

How the hell am I supposed to keep this from him all day? you thought.

But then again, maybe this was a good thing. You had time to make sure.

So you called out of work for a personal day, and you immediately called your doctor on your way out to the closest pharmacy. You were going to need a few more tests.

When Dean eventually got home that evening, there were two pizzas waiting for him. The smell was already making his mouth water. He peeked under the hood of each box and rubbed his hands together.

“Ooh, awesome.” Pepperoni, sausage, and double cheese. His favorite.

You appeared then from the kitchen with a strange smile on your face.

“Hey!” you chirped, but you seemed a bit distracted as you pulled out a sheet pan of cookies from the oven. You nearly dropped them when the corner of the pan banged against the oven.

Something was off with you. Dean knew it intuitively. He went over and tried to steady you with a hand on the small of your back. He could see that you were frazzled, but he realized, with a frown, that you had your walls up again. He couldn’t pick up on what you were thinking.

“You okay?” he asked. “What’s going on?”

“Uh…well, something,” you nodded and wiped your hands after you peeled the oven mitts off. “And I need to tell you about it before I bake everything in the house, including the expired bran muffins.”

Dean was growing more concerned by the moment. He knew for a fact he’d hidden that bran muffin mix deep in the pantry, so you wouldn’t force him to eat a “healthy dessert.”

“Okay, what?” he asked.

You paused, steeling yourself with a breath.

You then took his hand and led him to the bedroom, into the adjoining bathroom. Across the entire counter were no less than seven pregnancy tests.

All positive.

Dean’s breath caught in his lungs. Slowly he turned back to you with his widened eyes.

“Surprise?” you smiled, a little nervously.

Dean grasped the counter and had to sit down hard on the closed toilet seat.

“Yeah, I did that too,” you said. You couldn’t help but giggle as you caressed his face. He grabbed your hip, both to bring you closer and for added stability. You two had been trying to make this happen for over a year, but the gravity of this being real was finally hitting him.

He stared up at your face with a growing smile. “This is happening.”

You nodded, smiling through your burgeoning tears.

“Yeah. It is,” you replied. “Dean, you’re gonna be a dad.”

That realization had him nodding, swallowing hard and blinking past a sting in his eyes.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you in between his knees. You threaded your fingers through his hair, and his head came to rest against your stomach. He pressed a kiss there, over your shirt.

After a moment to gather himself, he rocked back onto his feet. Then he enveloped you in a secure and warm embrace. He kissed the side of your head, and you felt his smile there.

“We did it, baby,” he said.

“And that was the easy part,” you quipped, making him laugh. Yet the holy shit of it all hit him in a new wave—one you felt through the bond. You had to take a deep breath to steady yourself as well.

“Oh my God, this is happening,” he repeated.

You uttered a tearful laugh. “Uh, yeah, Dean.”

He was still smiling, but it started to dim a little.

“We’re ready, right?” he asked.

You chuckled, wiping at your eyes. “We better be.”

Dean nodded and pulled back enough to see your face. You met his gaze. Maybe you’d just had more time than him to process it all, but you finally felt a sense of peace.

“Together, right?” he said.

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Together.”

Dean let out a deep breath. “Shit, I gotta tell Sam.”

Your smile brightened and you squeezed his arms.

“Let’s call him!" you said. "Hopefully Eileen’s there too.”

The two had moved in together a couple of years ago, after Eileen officially retired from hunting. But she often had long shifts at her job, just like Sam did at the law firm he started working for after he graduated from law school, near the top of his class.

While you and Dean went into the bedroom to call Sam together, an angel watched from a distance, unseen by human eyes.

He found himself smiling.

AN: Ahh I'm soft. 🥰 I hope you all enjoy this as much as I had fun diving back into Never Say Goodbye.

And I won't say that I'll never come back to it in the future...for obvious reasons. 😉

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Series + Dean Tag List (Part 1):

I did my best to get everyone who was tagged in the original run of the series first, then my normal Dean tag list.

@curlycarley @chubby-teddybear @jamerlynn @iprobablyshipit91 @globetrotter28 @deamus-liv @deans-spinster-witch @my-proof-is-you @vera0124 @deans-baby-momma @lacilou @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @theonlymaninthesky @spnexploration @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester @imagineteller1

@icequeen1371 @tiredqueen73 @bitchwitch1981 @abbigaleelizabeth @ohgodthebogisback @where-the-river-bends @loveprof6 @shadowcrowsworld @thespnlover @this-is-me19 @stevenknightmarc @leigh70 @syrma-sensei @brain-has-left

@hobby27 @ashbatz @saranghaey @jori21 @lillyrob @adoringanakin @agirlwithdemonblood @mimaria420 @nephil-with-a-gun @writethrough @iamsapphine @definitelymentallyderanged @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer

#the old-fashioned way #bonus tracks #never say goodbye #bonus track 4 #spn #supernatural #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x soulmate!reader #soulmate au #soulmates #castiel #jody mills #bobby singer #zepskies writes

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the-californicationist · 5 months

Text

a safe house

(Price/Reader) SFW - But MDNI on my blog please!

“Ghost! How copy? Riley, come in!” Price shouted into his headset.

You were sending cover fire over the fallen tree that you and your captain were hiding behind. Unfortunately, you’d been separated from the rest of your team. Soap, Ghost, and Gaz were on the other side of the large, icy ravine, and they had done a good job drawing the enemy away from the target zone. Price kept trying to connect, but there was too much snow cover. A nasty blizzard was rolling in, and you needed to find better shelter, quickly.

“Captain! Enemy has been eliminated. We need to find shelter,” you tried to pull him up off of the ground.

He looked up at you, frustrated,

“Aye, Corporal, but they’ll be back. We need to find a way to warn the boys.”

“Look,” you showed him the map on your datapad, “Laswell said there’s an old town…I think she called it Khabnoye? It’s been abandoned for years, about two klicks away. There might be some old technology, radios, whatever. We can reach them on some long-range.”

“Alright, let’s move.”

It was a short distance, but the terrain was brutal due to the snow. You made it there by nightfall, and carefully approached the outskirts of the town, following Price’s lead to scope out possible enemy combatants. There was no one in sight. It truly was a ghost town, and you were justifiably creeped the hell out.

A small house was mostly intact near the very edge of the town, plenty of empty space around its edges, and only one broken window. You began to sweep the rooms, of which there were only three, noting that its prior occupants had left in quite a hurry sometime in the late 80s. You were fighting a nameless, secret war inside of the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone, so most of the towns you came across were similarly abandoned.

You stood in the kitchen with Price, catching your breath and unpacking your bag. He was starting up the small, convective space heater checking for high levels of radiation in the room, making sure it was sustainable for the night.

“Alright, let’s go dark. No lights, no comms until we get a better idea about what happened,” he said in a low voice.

“Yes, sir. I did get a notification from Soap, but the message is unreadable,” you showed him the datapad before you powered it down.

He sighed,

“At least we know he’s alive and stable enough to send comms. We’ll work on connecting when this storm blows through.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Drop the formality, Sparrow. Not spending the whole night listening to your sirs.”

He was upset. The operation was ruined, and he had no idea where his team was or if they were even alive anymore. You said nothing, letting him unpack two MREs and prep the bags for you. You checked the other rooms. There was a tiny, filthy bathroom without running water, and a bedroom with a dingy full mattress without sheets. You set to work arming the windows with night vision motion cameras - much good may it do you with all this snow - and rigged the front door.

“No use,” Price muttered, digging into his chili and beans MRE, starving.

“Why? You think we’re safe here?”

“No tracks in or out. No trash younger than me, and no pings for ten miles,” he showed you his passive EMP monitor, “Our tracks are covered by now with the storm. They’ll assume we rendezvoused back at the base. It was closer and easier to access.”

“Closer? Why’d you come here then?”

“Base might be compromised,” he shrugged, “Couldn’t reach McTavish, so we can’t assume anything at this point. Might as well get comfortable and wait til morning. This’ll clear once the sun comes out, and we’ll send an AM ping.”

You sighed a breath of pure relief,

“I know I’ve only been with you guys for a few months, but honestly, I don’t know what’s more impressive, your technology or your level-headedness under insane fire. Feeling very much like the amateur I am, Captain.”

“You handled yourself well out there, little bird. I’m impressed,” his praise rushed through you like adrenaline, and you basked in it.

“Thanks, Cap,” you smiled, drinking the broth of your soup and packing up your MRE trash into its bag.

“You smoke cigars, love?”

It was midnight before you even considered going to bed. You and Price had stayed up in the kitchen, smoking and chatting in the dark, only illuminated by the glow of your ashes. The snow fluttered down outside, layering itself on the ground like a pile of white sheets. There’d be at least two feet of it at the door tomorrow morning.

“...and I got this one in Amsterdam, chasing some smugglers out of the wharf. Motherfucker stabbed me right through the arm. Missed the bones, thank Christ. But, that’s not the bad one.”

You were telling each other stories about your scars, and you were in all states of dress. It was warm with the space heater, and you were comfortable around each other. Aside from admiring the mountainous swell of his shoulders and chest, you tried not to think much of it. He was hot, but he wasn’t interested. You just had a small crush. It would pass.

Okay, maybe a big crush. But, you had some self-control.

Some.

“Oh,” he leaned across the table to get closer and look at your arm, “What was the bad one?”

You blushed, not that he could see it,

“It’s in a certain spot. Not sure you want to - ”

“Don’t make me beg, little bird,” he smirked, rolling his eyes at your modesty.

He was right, of course. You weren’t sure why you were shy.

Liar. You were shy because you had an enormous, filthy crush on your commanding officer.

You tucked your elbow beneath your shirt and pulled it up over your chest, showing him your sternum,

“This one. It’s a - ”

“Flare burn,” he whispered, his demeanor changing from jovial to serious very quickly.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

He was silent for a long time. You watched as Price too a big mouthful of cigar smoke before letting it billow around him, looking like a big, brooding dragon in the quiet room.

“How’d you get it?” He asked, avoiding your question.

“Enemy trap. They rigged the door to blow a flare. My vest, all my plate, none of it mattered. The flare burned so hot that it cut right through the gear like butter. If it wasn’t for our medic knowing that he needed to knock it out, I would’ve died. Three weeks in the med bay. It was bad.”

Price reached out slowly, almost as if not to scare you, and touched the circular wound. It wasn’t sexual, but that didn’t stop you from immediately feeling aroused by having his hands on you. You shuddered involuntarily, and he jerked his hand back. The silence in the room was suffocating.

“Sorry, little bird,” he whispered his apology, “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you chuckled, taking a drag of his cigar for yourself, trying to calm down, “Uh, no.”

“What?” He prodded, not realizing what truth he was asking you for.

“It’s nothing, sir,” you stood up from the table, trying to escape, and forgetting you were in a 200 square foot house.

He stood with you, reaching out to touch your shoulder. You sighed into his contact against your will, feeling the stress of the day melt away as he did.

“It just…” You tried to throw him a hint, “Feels good, you know. To be touched. Been a long time… sorry, sir.”

“Told you to swallow those sirs, little bird,” he whispered in a low rumble, putting his other hand on your other shoulder, grabbing you gently.

There was very little space between your bodies now that you were away from the table, standing in the no-man’s-land between the bed and the kitchenette. It smelled like sweat and tobacco and 1987 in there, and you were breathing hard, nervous and desperate for him to do something to you that he couldn’t take back.

“Sorry,” you said under your breath, not knowing what else to tell him.

Price lifted your chin up to meet his eyes, grabbing your jaw firmly, but gently. In the blackness of the night, the moon reflected only a little of his icy blue eyes, and the glow from his cigar made his face appear sharp and saurian. You didn’t expect for his touch to be so light. Just hours ago, he’d snapped a man’s neck with these same hands, and now he was passing the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip like you were the petal of an orchid, careful not to bruise you.

“I’m trying,” his breath was ragged as he confessed, “I promise, I’m trying to let it go, little bird.”

“Let what go?” You put your hands on his hips, trying to steady yourself, feeling dizzy with lust and fear.

“My desire,” he put his forehead against yours, closing his eyes, struggling, “Turn me away. Please, little bird. End my fucking torment. I’ll never mention it again. I swear it.”

You kissed him, pressing your lips into his chastely but firmly, enjoying the heat and the smoothness of his skin, the smell and the feel of his beard, coated in tobacco smoke and his own sweat. The comforting spice of the chili lingering on his mouth. He breathed in like you’d pressed a hot iron brand into him, blissful pain radiating through his body, pulling you in close to his chest. He deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth against yours, moving your skull with his powerful jaws, leading you, commanding and strong in his desire.

“Love, don’t… don’t do this. Not unless you mean it. I’m bloody beggin’ you.”

You smiled, resting your nose alongside his, kissing him again slowly and carefully before answering him,

“I mean it, John. I mean it.”

Reblogs and comments deeply appreciated! <3 <3

AO3 Link

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #john price #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #john price x reader #call of duty #captain john price x reader #captain johnathan price #captain price fluff #john price fluff #afab reader #Female reader #x female reader

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minisugakoobies · 5 months

Text

It's You - Choi San | First Kiss

Pairing: San x Reader Genre: smut, crack, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, BFF's Lil Bro!AU Series Rating: M (18+) Drabble Warnings: angst!, mutual pining comes to a head, or more accurately to lips, aka kissing Word Count: 1.8k (ok it's a little more than a drabble) Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me

Summary: He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend's little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That's it. How did this happen?

A/N: Hi, I'm back. This is the first vignette that's not from an ask but just from my own head. I just really wanted to write their first kiss, so I did! I hope you enjoy. 🥰

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment, or send me an ask to be added! You can also send me any ideas/thoughts you might have for a future scenario - who knows, it might end up in a drabble! 💕

It's You Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ ATZ Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ Main Masterlist

A few weeks after Halloween, Hongjoong invites everyone to a friend’s deejaying gig on the other side of town. Your roommate opts out, saying she’d rather spend one of her rare nights off at her boyfriend’s, so you, San, Wooyoung, and Hongjoong check it out together.

After the gig ends, your ears still ringing, feet aching from all the dancing you did, the four of you make your way home. Wooyoung and Hongjoong both seem hyped from the show, talking excitedly as you wait for the train. You watch them with a fond smile, leaning against the wall and taking turns lifting your feet to take some of the pressure off.

San joins you. “You okay, Noona?”

“Yeah. Just wore the wrong boots tonight,” you say. “Didn’t realize we’d be dancing so much.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I could’ve warned you,” San grins. “Sorry. We’re not the type to sit through a set.”

“Clearly,” you reply, smiling back. Honestly, you’d been pleasantly surprised at how well San and his friends dance. They were so free with their movements and their energy had been infectious. You couldn’t have stood still if you’d tried.

Of course, now you’re paying for it, wincing as your throbbing feet scream at you. You shuffle again, and then, ever-so-gracefully, you lose your balance, tipping over, letting out a loud expletive that draws everyone’s attention.

Hongjoong and Wooyoung cackle as San grabs your arm, pulling you back upright.

“No worries, Noona, I’ve got you.”

He murmurs the words reassuringly, arm sliding from yours to loop around your shoulders, squeezing you into his side, but only for a second, before he scolds the other two for laughing so much. You giggle along as Wooyoung and San pretend to fight, but your heart’s not in it, because it’s still yearning painfully for San to hold you again. Every time he touches you - hugs you goodbye, cuddles with you on the couch, even the briefest moments of contact like just now - it leaves this black hole inside your chest, an endless gnawing need for more and more and more.

At some point, you won’t be able to withstand it anymore. You’re not sure what will happen then.

The train car is crowded when your group enters. Unfortunately for your tired feet, there's nowhere to sit, and blessed little space to stand, so everyone splits up, trying to find room for themselves. Except for San, who guides you towards the opposite doors with a gentle touch on your back, and then stands beside you, reaching overhead to hold on while your hands curl around a pole.

Some creepy guy already too close on your right leans over, trying to get an eyeful of your chest, and San smoothly slides around, blocking you from the asshole’s view. You smile gratefully, and he gives you an intimidating look but undercuts his mean mugging with an eyebrow wiggle, and you giggle, which then makes him grin, a chain reaction of happiness that leaves you buzzing.

The gentle sway of the car as it hurdles down the tracks shakes you. You bump into San with a horribly steady rhythm, feeling sheepish for not having a strong enough core to keep yourself upright and balanced for more than a second at a time. He just laughs, finally throwing an arm around your back to help.

His hold is light, leaving a big sliver of air between you, a respectful distance that frankly makes you wish he’d be disrespectful. But he maintains it, supporting you in the most polite way, and somehow it still makes your heart jump fast as the wheels spinning beneath your feet. You turn your head, focusing on the window on the door, watching your reflection as the dark tunnels roll by.

At the next stop, more people pack themselves into the car. The small bubble of space around you pops as the wave of humanity rolls you into San, and you bring your hands up, bracing yourself against his chest, eyes widening at the solid warmth beneath your fingertips.

“Shit, sorry, sorry.” You apologize profusely, trying to step away, but the train jerks again, jostling you, and San tightens his grip, pulling you back into his arms.

“It’s ok,” he mutters, in a quiet voice. “I told you. I’ve got you.”

When your gazes meet, it’s like the air has been sucked from the car. Something shimmers in his dark eyes as they roam your face, and you utter his name unthinkingly, a tiny “San” just slipping from your open mouth, but it feels like a rogue confession of something you’ve been denying for so long. You’re not sure if he heard it but he definitely saw it because he’s been staring at your lips for a few seconds now.

You lean in at the same time he tilts his chin forward, and your mouths meet in the middle. A light kiss, feather soft, like testing the waters. The next one lingers, his lips firmer against yours. His hand splays on your back. You twist your fingers into the front of his t-shirt.

A third press weakens your knees, as his mouth slots against yours. Lips move together, part, allowing him to breathe in your little gasp.

The train emerges from the tunnel, and suddenly the lights in the car blast on as it comes to a slow stop at the next station. Immediately, you spring back, and so does San.

His expression is searing, and you glance away, looking to see if any of your friends are nearby, but the only one you can glimpse is Hongjoong. He’s got his back to you, a few feet and a dozen people away.

When the train starts up again, a few riders lighter, San loosens his grip, hand gliding up to a spot between your shoulders, far from the small where it had just been resting. By the time you reach your stop, his arm is more hovering than touching.

You and San find Hongjoong a few feet ahead of you when you depart. Wooyoung’s still on the train, since his place is closer to the next stop. Hongjoong slows his quick stride enough for you to catch up.

“You guys up for some ramen?” he asks, like he always does on late nights like this. You and San look at each other, and you don’t know if it’s the dim streetlights or what, but you can’t read his expression.

“Nah, I’m good,” San answers.

“I think I’m just gonna go to bed,” you start to say at the same time, cutting off to let San finish and then repeating yourself with a nervous laugh.

“‘Kay.” Hongjoong bears the rejection with his usual nonchalance. “I’ll see you later.” He crosses the street, heading for the convenience store on the next block.

And it’s just the two of you now, walking in silence. Two more blocks and you’ll be home. One more block. Just up the stairs now. Key in door, door closed, shoes off.

You stare at each other. He blinks first.

“Should we - “

“Did you want to - “

“Hey guys.”

Your roommate comes padding out of the kitchen, cup of tea in hand.

“Hey!” you nearly shout. “I thought you were staying over at Jongho's?”

If she’s surprised by the volume of your voice, Haneul doesn’t show it. She shrugs. “Yunho was being annoying, so I left.”

Yunho is Jongho’s roommate. He’s rarely at their apartment on the weekends. Just your luck that this would be the one night a year he strikes out and goes to his own bed instead of someone else’s.

Or maybe it’s for the best. Because it’s not too late to stop now before you do something else. Something potentially foolish. Let it just be a kiss. A one-time loss of rationality. Of caution.

Even if you can’t stop thinking about that night at the bar. Sitting there with San’s arms wrapped around you just felt so right.

Even if it’s been ages since you felt this way about someone.

Even if you’re pretty sure you’re falling for San.

“Are you going to bed or are you gonna stay up for a bit?” Haneul asks, taking a seat on the couch.

“Um…” you fight the impulse to glance at San. “I don’t know. I’m not really tired or anything….” Truth be told, you’re a little wired now. “Why?”

“I was thinking of starting that new drama Jongho told us about. Wanna join me?” She pats the space next to her.

San mumbles something about taking a shower. You watch him leave the room, and it feels like whatever happened on the train is already fading away. Did it really happen, or was it just a dream? Are your fantasies bleeding over into your waking hours now?

San joins you and Haneul near the end of the first episode, taking a spot on the floor in front of the couch so he can stretch out. He looks so soft, with his dark hair freshly fluffed from a towel, dressed in his favorite hoodie and sweats, and it’s a struggle to keep your focus on the television and not wonder what would’ve happened had Haneul not been home.

Part of you wishes San would catch you looking. But you’re not sure you could handle it if you met his gaze right now and didn’t find what you were hoping to find.

It’s actually a little odd how quiet he is, staring so intently at the show that you are completely ignoring. Is he doing the same thing you are, replaying the moment in his mind? Trying to freeze it in your memory?

Your stomach drops as you consider another possibility. What if he thinks the kiss was a mistake?

By the time the third episode is over, you’re exhausted, from your night out but also from the mental gymnastics you’ve been performing, silently twisting yourself into knots thinking about San and the train and what could happen versus what should. So you excuse yourself for the safety of your bedroom, where you can dream in peace.

Nero’s already curled up on his favorite spot on your bed, right next to where you lay your head. He cracks an eye open as you flop down beside him, and you reach out to give him an apologetic scritch, when you catch a scrap of paper poking out from beneath him. A note, with San's handwriting. He must’ve slipped it on your pillow after his shower. The first sentence sends relief flooding through you.

I don’t regret it.

But it’s what’s written next that has you rereading the note over and over. It’s a simple sentence, just a pleading command, but to you, it’s a revelation.

Please tell me you want more too.

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

Taglist: @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @jennylychee

#ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #san x reader #choi san x reader #choi san fanfic #fic: it's you #bff's lil bro au

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vinvantae · 9 months

Text

Unmasked

15/16

<<< previous part

Word count : 5.2k

Warning: poorly translated French (English translation at the end)

A/N : I feel terrible about how long it’s taken me to write this, the inspiration just hasn’t been with me for a little while. I hope you enjoy it regardless ❤️

**********************************************

SC - With the weight of the world seemingly off her shoulders, y/n absolutely flew around the track today. It feels like for the first time in a while, we’re seeing Thirty in her element once again.

Even with two rampaging Bulls chasing her down, it’s the Prancing Horse who takes the chequered flag. Y/N Y/L/N wins the Spanish Grand Prix!

MB - Despite all of the noise this weekend, it’s races like this one that define y/n as one of the best drivers of this generation. From the flawless start, to defending from the tremendous speed of the two Redbulls when it mattered most - that was a wonderful race to watch.

SC - I’m sure Ferrari were hoping for a 1-2 finish today, but after Charles' engine issues forced him to retire, I think they’ll be happy to get the most possible points with y/n’s fastest lap too. Look at that celebration, if there’s one thing about Thirty, every win is just as exciting as the last.

The feeling you got when you won never was any less triumphant, no matter how many you had tucked under your belt. But after how long the weekend had felt, this one felt particularly special. You climbed atop your car and pumped your fists above your head - practically giddy with glee as the crowd cheered for you, the underlying boos barely phasing you. They just didn’t matter - their opinions didn’t matter.

Your eyes zeroed in on a small group of girls who were in the grandstands, dressed head to toe in red - waving a banner for you above their head. Their celebrations seemed louder than anyone else's so you made sure to wave, putting the biggest smile on their faces before you hopped over to the car.

You laughed as the team swept you up in a tight hug when you ran over to the barrier, patting you on the helmet - the noise vibrated through you, making your heart soar. If there was a group of people you knew you could rely on, it was your team; even after your reveal, they were never any less supportive of you, always there for you no matter what the result was and treating you as they always had. It was one of the reasons why none of the contracts you offered tempted you, Ferrari are your family, you belong in red.

After swapping your helmet for your team cap, both Redbull drivers approached - Max giving you an overly enthusiastic bro hug, slapping your back so hard it almost hurt but you couldn’t help but laugh. “Amazing job, y/n. Almost got you.”

“Well, thankfully you and the smooth operator were too busy having a family squabble for that.” You teased, pulling back to let Carlos hug you as well, the Spaniard’s strong arms looped around your middle. “Now, if you boys don’t mind me - I have a winner’s interview to do.”

“Good job, y/n. Really happy for you.” Carlos made sure to get his praises in before you head across parc ferme. “See you soon.”

“Congratulations, y/n, what a result!” Naomi looked almost as excited as you as you approached for your post race interview. “How are you feeling right now?”

Your face was already hurting from how much you were smiling, you placed a hand on top of your cap and laughed. “I’m over the moon, this win felt so good.”

“After all you’ve had to deal with since your reveal, this is definitely wonderful to see.” She praised. “You raced spectacularly, anything you’d like to say to the people out there who still doubt you?”

“Honestly? After everything the guys, Max, Pierre, Esteban and Charles especially, put on the line for me, none of it really matters anymore. I have confidence in my skills and talent in this sport and knowing that my rivals believe in me too means everything… I won’t pretend that reading cruel things online will magically stop hurting, but I know what I’m capable of. I’m a world champion for a reason and there’s nothing anyone can say that will take that away from me.”

“Is this the start of your triumphant return, are we going to see you up on the top step now you’ve got your confidence back?”

“I’m ready for whatever the rest of the season throws at me. The championship is still all to play for right now, so I’m going to put my best foot forward and focus on racing.”

“Thank you so much, y/n. Congratulations. Your race winner, everybody!”

You waved at the crowd as you stepped inside to head to the cool-down room, your heart racing. Max and Carlos both greeted you with large smiles as you stepped into the room, the Spaniard playfully swatting at the brim of your cap to knock it from your head - swapping it for the 1st place Pirelli cap. “Much better, hermosa.”

“Thank you, however…” You knelt down to pick up your Ferrari hat, dusting it off before placing it on the table, a teasing lilt to your voice as you spoke. “Don’t disrespect! You can be proud of me for winning without being rude about my team, Carlos. I won’t ever let you forget you were almost one of us.”

“Idiot.” Max mumbled playfully, a strong arm draping across your shoulder - his eyes crinkled up as he smiled. “Congrats again on the win, y/n. You raced like a proper champ.”

“It felt good. Like of course winning is always good but this one felt different. Perhaps it was the timing of it, but there’s something about winning while feeling confident in myself again that makes me hungry for more.” You smiled softly. “To be honest, it felt more like the two of you were pushing me along than racing me… I’d thank you for taking it easy on me but there’s no way that that’s true.”

“You know I’d never do that. It was all you.” The Dutchman scoffed. “How dare you remember how good you are at racing, how am I supposed to beat you now.”

The way you grinned at him, gave Max flashbacks to your karting days together - your genuine joy when you beat him or all of the other boys in races. He could picture the small girl with her hair all messy from her helmet, sticking her tongue out at him when he whined to his Dad that a girl beat him. It’s not fair, she pushed me! When in reality you were just talented from day one. The way anyone could ever doubt you were Thirty bewildered him because you were you. Driven. Passionate.

It was why he never had any issue sharing the podium with you - your wins felt truly earned. Sure every driver had a win or two that they got under unusual circumstances but when the two of you were on those steps together, he could see how much you enjoyed it, no matter which number win it was and finally being able to see your smile made it all the better.

As you lifted your trophy above your head, you scanned the crowd for Charles - who, despite his DNF, was now standing in the front row, smiling up at you with pride. He threw you a cheesy wink as he clapped, not letting his own race ruin this for you. Despite not being your first win of the season, it was your first time on the top step so you relished every second of it - drowning both Redbull drivers in champagne before chugging some of the sparkling liquid. Max made sure he poured his drink down the back of your race suit, something he insisted he missed out having to share with your body double after the last win when you scolded him for it.

You felt on top of the world, all of your criticisms temporarily forgotten when that evening, all you could hear was the clinking of glasses against your own - the girls’ lips all sparkled with champagne as they toasted your victory. As much as you loved the guys, being celebrated by other women made your win all the more special. Lily looped an arm around your middle and pulled you close as Carmen snapped a photo - their laughter twinkling through the air. They gushed on how amazingly you raced, teasing you as your cheeks flushed.

All of this however, didn’t stop Charles watching you from across the bar - your red race suit traded for a gorgeous dress of the same colour, your eyes sparkling under the lights. The confidence you were radiating was intoxicating; he wanted to blame it on the beer he was drinking but there was nothing more he wanted than to have his hands all over you. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, everything about you was magnetic. He wanted to steal you from the girls, but he knew you needed this. Even when Max slapped him on the shoulder, he struggled to tear his eyes away.

“She’s not going to vanish if you stop looking at her, mate.” The dutchman teased, Charles finally turned away from you. “Let her celebrate, she knows where you are when she’s ready.”

“Something about her is just…different. Lighter.”

Max smiled softly, secretly fond of how Charles was with you. “She just won a race!”

“No, no. It’s more than that.” The other driver insisted. “But I just can’t put my finger on it… and if you’ll excuse me, I can’t just watch from a distance. She’s too beautiful.”

“Gross.”

He shoved Max lightly on the arm before crossing the bar to get to you, weaving between the flashes of red of those who were still in their team kit. Charles watched Lily give you a look before you cast your eyes over your shoulder - your face cracking into a grin. Your teammate felt grateful you were as pleased to see him as he was you. “Charles.”

“Mon amour.” He hummed, draping an arm around your waist - pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. “Sorry, I couldn’t stay away from you any longer. Having fun?”

“So much. I’m glad you’re here actually, we were just talking about you.” You lent into his touch.

“Oh yeah?”

Lily’s brow raised playfully. “You’ve got a big battle coming, il Predestinato. Now that our girl’s back, you ready to step it up?”

“I don’t think she ever left.” You looked at him as he spoke, his green eyes already fixed on you. “Just needed a little reminder of who she is.”

You smiled softly at him before leaning in to kiss him - his hand coming up to rest on your jaw. “I’ll never forget again thanks to you, and who knows, there’s still 16 races to go… anything could happen.”

“Joint world champions.” He teased, “That ever happened before?”

“Don’t think so.” Your laughter was soft, Charles had practically forgotten the presence of the girls watching you both with a fondness in their eyes. “But if anyone could do it, it would be us.”

“Cheers to that and cheers to you, y/n. I love you.”

You clinked your glass against his. “I love you too.”

***

Yourusername added to their instagram story

***

After your race win in Imola and poor strategy in Monaco from your team - ruining Charles’ chance at a win at his home grandprix, it didn’t take long for you to catch up to your teammate in the points and by the time the chequered flag was waved in Azerbaijan, you were the championship leader and it felt good. You could tell the strategy calls were starting to affect your boyfriend but whenever you brought it up, he told you it was all fine and that he was nothing but happy for you and selfishly, you believed him. You wanted him to feel as excited as you did, and it was the first time in a long time you were feeling good about your career.

Instead, you focused on racing with the same confidence you always knew you had before your reveal and with the people around you always making sure you had a smile on your face - the last few straggling cynics barely made a noise over the roaring crowds every time you lifted a trophy above your head.

Part of you thought maybe you had just become more attentive now you were free to be yourself, but every race that passed seemed to have more and more female fans eager to greet you at the barricades, ecstatic that you were leading the championship even if there was only 7 points in it.

“You’ve got this in the bag, y/n!” They always told you Canadian’s were nice, and it was shown with the way your new poor assistant’s arms were piled high with gifts as fans chatted away with you. You were never allowed to talk to them before as Thirty, so meeting them really was a delight. “Those boys don’t stand a chance.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. Charles is pretty good.” You smiled softly. “But, I’ll tell you what… I’m gonna do my absolute best for you.”

“You’re already the champion in my eyes, regardless of how the season ends.”

“Oh stop, you’re gonna make me cry.” You laughed softly, giving the girl a one armed hug. “I have to go now, thank you all though - for the support, the gifts. I’ll try and win for you today, promise.”

You helped to take some of the gifts from your assistant before heading towards the motorhome, saying hi to the other drivers as you passed by - after the protest, they had much more an effort to include you in idle chit-chat or debates they were having with another driver. Whether it was Esteban trying to get you to convince Mick and Lance that his long standing feud with Max was definitely over or Kevin showing you photos of his kid, it was nice. It was truly all you had ever wanted from your reveal - not just to be a driver, but to feel like one too.

Charles tucked you under his arm before the driver parade started, bickering with Pierre in French about god knows what but the glint in their eyes and the cheeky smile on Charles’ face assured you it was all in good fun. You simply rested your head against your boyfriend, eyes closed as you enjoyed the surprisingly warm weather as you waited for the flatbed to start moving.

“Mon amour, are you falling asleep standing upright?” He teased, squeezing you into his side.

“Mhmm, you’re so comfy, Charles.” You hummed softly, standing up straighter as the engine began to rumble - wanting to wave to the crowds instead of being caught dozing. “Besides, I’ve got to be well rested before I win the race later.”

“Leading the championship and suddenly your ego is massive.” Pierre teased, kicking you lightly in the shin - making you whine and glare at him. “I’m kidding. You deserve to be cocky, you have been very impressive recently.”

You raised a brow. “I’ve got my eyes on you, Gasly.”

“Uh oh, Pierre, you’ve made an enemy of Thirty. You better there’s no chance of the two of you tangling during the race.”

You practically snorted out a laugh. “Oh Charles, he won’t need to worry… unless, maybe I end up lapping him.”

“Oh it is on.”

It was your turn to bicker with Pierre, your boyfriend slipping away to talk to some of the others as the flatbed pulled back in to drop you all off at the pits. You felt in such high spirits when you got in the car that there was just nothing that could stop you - you were sure of it. You were going to get your 3rd title and Ferrari their first WCC since 2018. it felt like you owed them at least that much after keeping you on.

And oh, did you love this track. With its tight barriers hugging the track and long straights, the high speed was risky but made the race all the more exciting. That paired with the two Redbull’s sniffing at your car’s rear end and your teammate starting at the back of the grid, it was bound to be an exciting race.

Max put up a hell of a fight, chasing you down and barely giving you even a second to breathe - he nearly caught you on more than one occasion, but not pitting during the late safety car was his fatal mistake - his pebbled tires were no match for your shiny new softs. And before long you were lifting your second consecutive first place trophy above your head, Max and Lewis alongside you.

You felt untouchable, blowing a kiss in the direction of a small crowd of Redbull fans who had booed you louder than the rest as you’d been handed your trophy before giving their golden boy a good hosing down with your champagne, the two men who you shared the podium with upended the bottles over your head in a bubbling waterfall- a giddy smile on both of your faces as you celebrated.

“Hey congrats.” Lewis grinned, patting you on the shoulder as the three of you stood on the podium for the photo together. “Winning looks better on you every time.”

“Thanks Lewis, means a lot. Especially from you.”

The three of you stepped off the podium for your post race interviews, and you just couldn’t shake the electricity running through you. Not a single interview passed without them commenting on just how different you seemed - how over the course of the past few races, the personality they had loved beneath the helmet seemed to have finally come to the surface. “It’s so nice to see how much you’re enjoying racing again, y/n.”

“Yeah, it’s been really really good.” You smiled, your hands resting against the cool metal barricade in front of you. “Sure, I still see and hear some nasty stuff but it… it just doesn’t feel the same, it doesn’t hurt as bad knowing that I have nothing to prove to them. They’ll never like me, and that’s okay. I have plenty of supporters and friends who love me and back me up no matter what.”

“Well, it’s good to have you back. Hope you enjoy your weekend off, see you at Silverstone.”

You thanked the press before heading back to the Ferrari motorhome, letting out a yelp as you were practically tackled by your boyfriend as he swept you up in his arms. “There’s my race winner.”

“Oh who cares about my race win when you made it up from 19th to 5th!” You laughed, wrapping your arms around him - the warmth from his body made you feel at ease. “That’s far more impressive. You very much deserved the driver of the day, I’m glad your hard work was recognised.”

“Well...” He carefully placed you on the floor, placing his hands on your hips. “How about we take our weekend off to celebrate your phenomenal race and my win, hmm?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck before leaning in to kiss him. He smiled against your lips and pulled you closer, deepening the kiss like you weren’t surrounded by the hustle and bustle of your team packing up now the weekend was over. Neither of you cared, you simply couldn’t get enough of each other.

When you pulled back, you couldn’t help but notice the cheeky glint in his eyes. You let your hand move to rest on his jaw, brushing your thumb across the stubble. “That sounds like an offer I simply can’t refuse.”

***

The skies were blue when you touched down in Silverstone, another favourite - a classic; the Tifosi showing wasn’t as big as it used to be but there were enough flashes of red amongst the crowds for you to feel their support. But, much to the disappointment of the Mercedes and Mclaren fans filling the grandstands, you and your team were currently on track to win the whole thing. You’d spent more time than you cared to admit trying to figure out what the earliest race you could win the championship at despite your slow start to the season.

But with Charles, Max and Carlos all having an equally impressive score sheet, you honestly had no idea which way it was going to go - you could only hope it would be in your favour. You’d worked so hard to fight for not only the championship, but the respect you deserved that you knew that you couldn’t stop now. Everything was to play for and you couldn’t back down now.

SC - Welcome one, welcome all to the Formula 1 Lenovo British Grand Prix here at Silverstone, the sun is shining down on all of us Martin and it looks set to be a good race. With the Ferraris and Redbulls occupying the two front rows, it will be a challenge for anyone else to claim victory. Our Championship leader shares the front row with Max Verstappen, who is gaining with each race on her and her teammate Charles Leclerc.

MB - It definitely is one to watch, the battle between the Prancing Horses and Bulls has been thrilling so far this season. I can’t wait to see how this all plays out and with Y/N having claimed podiums in her last six races, I wouldn’t be surprised to see her back on that top step.

SC - I’d put money on it if I was a betting man. Her performance leading up to this point has been something special. But with Max picking up the pace, I think he’s definitely her biggest competitor right now.

MB - Now Crofty, I wouldn’t write young Leclerc off so quickly, he is second place right now.

SC - Well, I’ll guess we’ll just have to wait and see as the grid lines up for the start of the race. The British Grand Prix is about to start, engines are revving… and its lights out, and away we go!

You felt breathless as you pulled into parc ferme, what a race. Despite your win, you couldn’t help but think about Gyanyu, George and Alex - the crash at the start was scary and you were lucky to have not been a part of it with a third of the grid getting tangled up. As much as you loved to win, it was always a bittersweet feeling when others were potentially hurt.

As you climbed out of the car, you made an effort to try and catch as many of the other drivers you knew had been part of the incident as you could as they made their way through parc ferme. You immediately wrapped your arms around Seb as he climbed out of the car, your former teammate giving you a gentle chuckle in response - promising that he was okay. So you glanced around the crowd for your childhood friend, Pierre smirking as he saw you approach. “Aw, coming to check on me?”

“Don’t make me regret it, Gasly.” You chuckled, pulling him into a hug. “But if you’ll excuse me, I did just win. Catch you later.”

You tried to catch Charles before he ducked away but you were ushered towards Lewis and Carlos for the podium interviews. With your fresher tires brought on by Esteban’s safety car, he wasn’t able to hold you off… or Lewis… or Carlos. So he was understandably frustrated. But you were still happy and wanted to celebrate with the team and you were sure once he’d had his moment of annoyance, he’d be happy for you too.

It was hard to have that same attitude when the roles were reversed the following week in Austria, and it was you who barely missed out on the podium and it all came to a head in your driver’s room. “I think we need to talk.”

“Oh?” Charles gently took off his first place cap and placed it on the coffee table. “Everything okay?”

You took a deep breath. “I don’t know why we haven’t had this conversation before but I feel like we need to talk about what happened this week and last week… when one of us wins and the other doesn’t. I think we need to find the balance of being able to understand how the other one feels versus celebrating the winner.”

“Yeah, yeah I get that. Well…” He approached you slowly, placing his hands on your hips - giving a gentle squeeze. “The winner can be sympathetic and the other can be supportive, but if one of us has a particularly bad race when the other wins then we just check in on how they feel first before jumping for joy at the win.”

“We’re both in with a chance of winning this whole thing, we have to promise not to let that get in the way of what we have.” You looped your arms around his neck, scratching lightly at the nape of his neck. “I'm really happy with you and I don’t want me beating you to ruin that.”

“Oh, you’re gonna beat me are you?” Charles chuckled. “Well, best of luck, mon amour. You’re gonna need it.”

***

Leading up the summer break, things stayed on the up for you but not so much for Charles the agreement between the two of you more in force than ever. Hungary was the last race before you could enjoy a relaxing few weeks away from the paddock but with Charles’ DNF in France the weekend before he’d lost 2nd in the WDC to Max, the Dutchman now 5 points ahead thanks to his victory and it was clearly bothering him. You were soaring ahead and he was starting to be left behind - you 33 points ahead.

Charles spent as much time as he could with fans, making sure not one was missed - chatting away, taking photos and bringing as many smiles to their faces as he could. He would always be the tifosi’s golden boy; despite you leading, he would always have a special place in their hearts and you couldn’t blame them. There was something charming and gentle about him, he was impossible to dislike. The way he avidly listened to every word fans said to him, the look on his face full of genuine interest. He was so kind and you knew someday he was going to live up to the massive expectations they had all put on his shoulders - you wanted to win the championship, but someday it was going to be his turn and you knew that he would have their support every step of the way.

As you finally stepped away from the crowds, you linked your fingers with his and gave his hand a gentle squeeze - noticing his deflated stature as you walked towards the motorhome. Neither have you qualified on pole and his hopes of winning were being diminished by the minute. “You looked like you were having a good time with the fans, what’s the matter? Talk to me…”

“I hate to say it, amour, but now that you’re off ahead in the distance - I’m gonna have to play the role of second driver.” He grumbled softly. “I really want you to do well, y/n, I do, but I want it to be fair.”

A soft sigh left your lips and you turned him to face you, his green eyes locked on yours. “I won’t let it be unfair. I’m gonna talk to my engineers and let them know how I feel about it.. When I beat you, it’s all gonna be on my own merit.”

The corner of his mouth tugged into a smile, shaking his head a little. Your heart skipped a beat at his laughter, his strong arms looping around your middle. “And when I beat you, it’ll be because I deserve it too.”

“Exactly. We’re equals.” You lent up to press a kiss to his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck. “Last race until the summer break, we just have to get through this and then you and I can escape to your yacht and make the most of the privacy.”

“You are beyond tempting.” He purred, pulling you in closer. “If we weren’t surrounded by all these prying eyes, I’d have you exactly where I want you.”

A giggle escaped you, you raised a playful brow at him. “Well, then what are we waiting for? Your driver’s room has a lock on the door, doesn’t it?”

Your teammate groaned, his nose nudging against yours before he kissed you with even more intensity than before - not caring about the cameras or poor staff members walking past you both to get into the building. The butterflies erupted in your stomach as he smiled against your lips, not wasting a second more before he tugged you into the building towards his driver room. He pressed your back against the door as he closed it, his pupils blown with lust as they scanned your figure. “As pretty as you look in red…”

“I’d look better in nothing?” You teased, slipping your hands under his polo - he shivered as your cold hands ran across his skin. “C’mon, Charles. You can do better than that.”

“You’re impossible.” He shook his head, dropping his voice to a whisper as his lips brushed across your skin. “Tu es délicieux(1)…je t’aime de tout mon coeur(2).”

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you. “God, you speaking French really does something to me.. Don’t stop.”

He tugged you away from the door as he pulled your polo over your head, lips only breaking from your skin to mutter filth in french. You were weak at the knees as he pulled back to look at you - his lips shiny with your gloss. You reached up to brush your thumb across his bottom lip before tugging on his chin gently to bring him back into a kiss as he began to work on the button of your jeans.

“Did you lock the door?” You managed to get out, feeling breathless but your boyfriend seemed relentless, grunting in response as he dropped to his knees to pull your jeans over your hips, tugging you lightly so you thumped down on the couch with a soft oof. “Charles, the door.”

“You’re killing me.” He whined, running his hands up the insides of your thighs - pushing them apart. “Je ne peux pas supporter d'être loin de toi ne serait-ce qu’un instant(3), amour.”

You draped a leg over his shoulder. “If anyone walks in, I’ll run you off the track later.”

His lips curved into a devilish smirk. “Deal.”

****

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***

Next part >>>

(1) you’re delicious

(2) I love you with all my heart

(3) I can't stand being away from you for even a moment

I hope you enjoyed ❤️ thank you for all your continued support regardless of my terrible posting schedule

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literaryavenger · 6 months

Text

Broken - final part

Summary: The wait for Bucky's trial is finally over.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language. Innocent and broken Bucky. Mentions of Bucky's past and nightmares. A lot of fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 3K

A/N: this is the last part of this story! I had originally planned on making it much longer but I honestly didn't have many ideas to go on, so I decided to use the ideas I did have and end it there. So here it is, hope you like it!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Masterlist

Slowly you start to forgive the team, starting with Peter that came to you one afternoon handing you some flowers and a teddy bear as an apology and making your heart melt. How can you stay mad at such a sweet boy?

After about a month you're back on speaking terms with everyone, except Steve and Tony.

For some reason you can't get over the fact that they started the whole civil war and were the ones to decide to cut you out of it.

Everyone tried to make you see things from their side, even Thor and Bruce that were back from New Asgard along with Loki, who couldn’t care less about the whole situation but kind of enjoyed the chaos.

After that night with Bucky’s nightmare you talked more about pretty much any subject, and he came to you everytime he needed comfort.

Bucky also isn't able to keep his hands to himself anymore, not that you mind, a feat that did not go unnoticed by the team.

You never miss the knowing looks they give each other every time Bucky hugs you or randomly grabs your hand.

Even though you couldn't bring yourself to forgive Steve yet, you start being around him more and more especially after Bucky asked you to start coming with him to his meetings with Fury.

The closer it gets to his hearing, the more touchy Bucky seems to be with you, as if his hands on you is the only thing that keeps him grounded to reality.

The day before his hearing Bucky can't get himself away from you, following you everywhere since you woke up in the same bed, a thing that started to happen more and more every time he had a nightmare.

Some nights going as far as going to sleep directly in your room without even stepping foot in his.

Steve bides his time the whole day, trying to choose his moment, which came in the early afternoon when you left Bucky on Scott's floor with Cassie while you went to yours to get some Pop Tarts for Cassie since, not surprisingly, Thor finished the ones in their kitchen.

Scott thought that spending time with Cassie, which Bucky has come to be very fond of, would help the super soldier take his mind off the trial, and he was right.

When you get to your floor, and Steve sees you're alone, he doesn't think twice about approaching you.

He's speaking before you even have a chance to realize what's happening. "Listen, I know we’re not in the best terms right now, but I want to talk to you about Bucky."

As much as you want to ignore him you know he really cares about his best friend. And since he’s been nothing but respectful of your decision to avoid him, you think that him actively seeking you out means this is important.

So you nod at him to go on and, with a relief sigh that you're actually gonna listen to him, he does. "Here’s the thing, we both know Bucky’s been through a lot…" he starts, choosing his words carefully as to not give his best friend away completely.

"He’s been doing so much better, and even I realize that’s largely thanks to you." you’re about to protest, but he raises his hand to stop you. "It is. We all see how he is when you’re around, but you don’t see how he is while you’re away on missions. He’s like a puppy just waiting for you to come back, brooding away everytime someone that isn’t you walks through the door."

You can tell he’s trying very hard not to smile as he thinks about it, but fails miserably, before shaking his head a little and getting back on track.

"Anyway, my point is you’re important to him. Tomorrow is gonna be a really hard day for Bucky and I want to thank you for being there for him. Not just for the trial, but for everything I know you do for him. And, I realize it might not be my place to say but, as the only family Buck has left, I feel like I have to tell you: please be careful with him. After everything he’s been through the last thing he needs is to get his heart broken."

Steve knows maybe he said a little too much, but he needs to know Bucky's in good hands. Even if he does trust you with his life, he also wants to know he can trust you with his best friend’s heart.

He doesn't expect you to answer, your face staying neutral the whole time he spoke, and he's about to turn away when you basically throw yourself at him, giving him the tightest hug he’s had since you started avoiding him.

All you can think about was how glad you are that Bucky has someone who cares about him as much as Steve does.

Now more than ever you can see Steve’s reasons behind his choices, how he was motivated by his love for a guy he sees as a brother, the only family he has left.

You get it, you truly do, but seeing it makes you almost cry on Bucky’s behalf.

"I promise you the last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt him." is all you say as you let go, a wordless understanding between you both that you forgive him.

You grab the pop tarts you came here for and go back to an awaiting Bucky and Cassie, who are wearing tiaras and giggling making your heart melt.

The rest of the day goes fast and soon you’re getting into bed with Bucky, not wanting to sleep by himself tonight.

"Hey," he says as he wraps his arms around you. "I just want to say, in case things go wrong tomorrow-"

"Don’t say that, Buck." you interrupt him. "Everything’s gonna be okay, and you’ll come home a free man." you say firmly.

"Doll, we both know there’s a very real chance that I’ll be found guilty and sent back to the Raft. If that happens, I don’t think I’d be able to live without you knowing this…"

Before he can say anything else, you put your hand on his mouth, effectively shutting him up. "Don’t say anything, please. You can tell me tomorrow, after we come back home together."

You can tell he’s trying really hard to hold himself back, but eventually he agrees and you take your hand away, getting more comfortable in his arms and falling asleep in each other’s embrace for what Bucky prays won’t be the last time.

The next morning comes and Bucky’s a bundle of nerves, so worried that time seems to go by in a flash.

Suddenly he’s in a courtroom, asking the judge to please repeat his rouling one more time.

A full pardon.

He can’t believe it. Yes, he has to go to court mandated therapy and has a probation period to go through with the team, but still.

Now he feels like time’s going in slow motion, all he can see it’s you as he turns to your seat next to him. You hug him with tears in your eyes as you tell him how proud you are of him and that you knew he was gonna be okay.

Somehow, you made it real for him. Hearing you acknowledge it makes him believe it and then he’s crying too, not able to hold back.

Steve puts a hand on his shoulder, making you let go of each other and turn to him, a smile so big on his face that you can see all his stupidly perfect teeth.

You all finally get home and, as soon as you enter the living room on your shared floor, you hear a chorus of “congratulations!” followed by loud noises and confetti falling everywhere.

You’re as shocked as Bucky and, as you turn to Steve you see a surprised look on his face too, which turns confused when he looks at you mirroring his own reaction, the same question in the tip of both of your tongues.

But before you can ask each other, Bucky beats you both to it.

"Did you do this for me?" he's amazed, overjoyed and then as confused as you when you both shake your heads no.

Then the mystery is revealed.

"I did it." All three of you are shocked when you turn around to the voice, thinking you were imagining it, to find a very real Tony Stark standing in front of you, the rest of the team behind him.

"You did this?" you have to make sure you heard him correctly.

"Yeah, I did. I’m amazing, get over it." And with that Tony walks away towards the bar. There he is.

You turn to Bucky and Steve and since all they do is stare at you, you just shrug and go to join the rest of the team in celebration, the super soldiers right behind you.

You joke and laugh and dance all together for hours, until eventually you find yourselves sitting scattered around the living room, various conversations going at the same time.

You're sitting on Bucky’s lap, his arms around you and your head on his chest as he jokes with Steve and Sam when you notice Tony going behind the bar, where nobody else is.

You feel the need to follow him so you kiss Bucky in the cheek and tap his arms twice signaling him to let go of you. When he does, somewhat reluctantly, you get up and walk after Tony.

You lean on the bar, crossing your arms in front of your chest. But before you can say anything he speaks, not even bothering to turn around.

"Don’t need to thank me, Cyborg deserves it.- You roll your eyes at the nickname, but decide to let it go for the time being.

"So what, you’re his biggest fan now?" You know you were kind of pushing it, but you just need to know what changed.

He turns around and you get ready for him to yell at you again, but instead he smiles in a way that was too sweet not to be genuine. Yep, Tony Stark is full of surprises.

"I’m not. But I see the way he looks at you." you raise your eyebrow at him.

"How does he look at me?"

"It's the same way I look at Pepper." He answers without skipping a beat. "I know he knows he's not good enough for you, but I can see he's trying to be. That's all I could ask for." he shrugs and turns back around.

You know he means it, as much of a genius as he is, even he couldn’t come up with a lie like that, that fast.

You stare at the back of his head while he works on his drink, both of you thinking of a way to approach the next subject the right way.

When he turns back to you he puts a glass in front of you, your favorite drink in it, and takes a sip of his own drink. After a few more moments of silence, he decides to speak first.

"I’m sorry. For keeping the whole war thing from you and for how I treated Barnes. I had a lot of time to think about it, I read all the Hydra reports we found on him, I rewatched the footage… I can see now it really was out of his control. I shouldn’t have blamed him for something he had no way of stopping. And I shouldn’t have kept something so big from you. I really am sorry."

You’re glad he finally sees things the way you do, but you can’t help yourself as you say "I appreciate it, and I forgive you, but I’m not the one you have to apologize to."

"Trust me, I know." he sighs. "Pepper already gave me the speech…" he says sheepishly.

God, you love that woman.

He makes his way around the bar and stops in front of you.

He gives you a hug and whispers in your ear. "I’m doing this for you, too. I don’t like it when you’re mad at me and I need you to know I meant everything I just said.-"

You’re a little confused at what he’s talking about until he lets go of you and walks towards the couch where Buck’s still talking to Sam and Steve.

"Bucky," he starts, and the room goes silent "I just want you to know that I’m sorry for blaming you for my parents’ death. And it’s not just because the government believes you’re innocent, after everything I’ve learned about your situation the past month I can’t not believe you were a victim and still call myself a genius. I also read some of dad’s old journals from when he worked with the Howling Commandos... You guys were friends. I realize you wouldn’t have hurt him if you had a choice. And I’m also sorry for the name calling, Terminator."

You roll your eyes with a smile at his last sentence while the others snickered at the nickname.

You go to stand next to Tony and wrap your arm around his waist and, when he wraps his around your shoulders and looks down at you, you gave him a squeeze, letting him know you're grateful to him for doing this.

You look at Bucky who doesn’t quite know what to say so you let go of Tony and make your way to sit back down on his lap, his arms going around your waist automatically. That seems to snap him out of it.

"Thank you, Tony. You don’t have to apologize, I understand why you were angry, but I appreciate it. Howard was a good man, he didn’t deserve an end like that." Tony doesn't say anything back, merely nodding and going to sit next to Pepper.

Well, that’s a start.

Everyone goes back to their own conversations and you turn back to Bucky, who's already looking up at you.

"Thank you." he says low enough so only you can hear.

"I didn’t do anything, it was all him. I told you, anyone with a functioning brain can see that you’re a good person." you tell him with a smile.

He smiles back at you, holding you tighter as you lay your head back on his shoulder while looking at your friends talking and laughing amongst each other. You're happy that things are back to normal, with the added bonus of Bucky finally being completely free.

The party eventually ends and the living room slowly empties out, the last people remaining being you, Bucky and Steve.

"Well, I’m going to sleep. You guys should too, today’s been a long day." Steve says, giving Bucky one last pat on the shoulder and, with a smile to the both of you, he gets up and leaves.

You’re sitting in a comfortable silence, not really feeling the need to get up just yet, when you feel Bucky leave a soft kiss against your shoulder, which makes you sit up a little straighter and turn to look at him, your arms going around his neck.

"We still have a conversation to finish… Are you gonna let me talk now?" He's much more confident than he was last night and you nod, curiosity now taking over you.

"Great… I’m just gonna get to the point. I like you, doll. The longer I spend time with you, the more I feel like myself. I feel at peace, like the last 70 years never happened because I know that’s not what you see when you look at me. You’ve never been scared of me, never looked at me like I was a monster. You spend time with me because you want to, not because you have to. You don’t mind having me around even when we don’t talk and all I do is look at you. You comfort me when I’m sad, calm me down when I have a panic attack and hold me until I fall asleep after I have a nightmare. You never judge me or make me feel guilty or like I’m too much, and you never push me to talk about anything, you’re always patient and let me take my time. I truly appreciate everything you do for me and I need you to know that. And to be clear, when I say I like you I mean it in the ‘I’d like to take you out on a date’ way."

You’re almost crying now, your heart melting as you look at an expectant Bucky. You honestly have no words to reply, so you do the only thing you can think of.

You lean down and kiss him softly, feeling him kiss you back almost right away, his lips are so soft you almost moan into the kiss. After a few moments you pull away, forehead resting against his.

"I really hope that means you like me back." he says with a goofy smile, making you giggle.

"Yes, I like you too." you gave him another kiss. "You make me feel seen. You make me feel important. You make me feel safe. I love spending time with you and having you close. And I’d love to go on a date with you."

This time he’s the one to initiate the kiss and you can’t help but smile into it. Suddenly he gets up, picking you up bridal style and making you squeal in surprise.

He laughs at your face while he takes you both to your room, where he lays you gently on the bed.

"I could’ve walked, you know." You tell him while chuckling.

"I know." he answers before basically lying on top of you while you laugh, smile seared onto his face.

You hang onto each other as you fall asleep, more than glad to have found the other and both silently planning your future together.

Bonus part

Requested taglist: @aesthetic0cherryblossom @buchi91 @sapphirebarnes @ordelixx

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan #marvel fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x f!reader #avengers x reader #avengers x platonic reader #avengers x platonic!reader

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

Text

Another Lie || CL16 {5} - Max's Ending

Warnings: 18+ only, fluff, angst WC: 2.7k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five (Charles) || Five (Max) || 5.1 blurb request

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you sighed as you saw the traffic backed up behind a collision. There was no way you were going to make it to your flight with the busy narrow streets brought to a standstill.

Knowing there was nothing to be done you found a good playlist and hummed along to the songs until you swore you heard your name. Sure enough, when you turned the music down and looked up you found Max Verstappen walking out of the apartment block beside you.

“It is you,” he greeted with a bright smile as he walked up to the door of your rental car.

There was no point leaving the engine running when the traffic wasn’t going to move any time soon, so you turned it off and unbuckled your seatbelt.

“Are you back for good?” he asked as he opened the door for you.

“I was actually on my way to the airport but that doesn’t look like it’s happening now.”

His smile dimmed around the edges. “Oh, what brought you back?”

“The baby shower. Weren’t you invited?” You frowned as you remembered seeing at least Pierre, Carlos and Lando at the venue and there were probably more drivers that you didn’t notice.

“I’m not interested in going anywhere that asshole is. The only place I see him is in my rearview mirrors on the track.”

Your frown deepened at the acidic answer. “I thought you were friends.” They had always been friends off the track and you had even been to Max’s birthday parties with Charles.

“No, that ended in Vegas. My mother used to say we’re only as good as the company we keep, so I told him my opinion and left it at that.”

Your lips parted but you were too stunned to speak and it took a second to recover. “Your opinion?”

His blue eyes held yours as he stepped closer so no one overheard the conversation. “I told him he was a fucking imbecile and that you were better off without him. You deserve better.”

You looked down at your feet with a smile and a soft laugh. “Thank you, Max. I honestly didn’t think anyone cared.”

“I tried to call you to see how you were…” His hand came to rest on the small of your back and guided you off the street that was getting busier as more drivers left their vehicles. “Do you want to come and wait upstairs?”

You looked around the crowd and saw some had their phones out snapping pictures of Max. “Is Kelly here? I don’t want to cause any problems for you.”

“You won’t,” he said quietly as he led the way inside. “She moved out a few months ago.”

“Oh, that sucks. What happened? If you don’t mind. I don’t exactly keep up with the gossip pages anymore.”

He pressed the button for the elevator to the penthouse as he shrugged. “We were at different points in our life and she wanted things I just wasn’t ready for.”

“Commitment?” you asked curiously but he barked a laugh and shook his head.

“Commitment I have no issue with,” he sighed and brushed a hand through his hair as the elevator climbed higher and higher, “but she wanted to have another baby because she was turning 35. I didn’t think age was a good enough reason to bring a child into the world, and I don’t want to be a part time father but I’m sure as hell not ready to retire either.”

Most people misunderstood Max’s blunt honesty as being cold and impersonal but you welcomed the practicality of it after all the lies you had been told. You respected him even more for it.

“And she really wasn’t willing to wait a few more years?”

“I thought she was. She said she was,” he said as he unlocked his door and opened it for you. “When I found her flushing her pills down the toilet, it was over.”

“Oh, Max,” you sighed and wrapped your arms around his waist knowing all too well how hurtful it was to be fed lies. “I’m sorry.”

He was slow to return the hug but you had to admit it felt nice when his arms encircled your waist and you realised it was the first time you had ever actually hugged him.

“Do you want a drink?” he asked after you pulled away not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

“I’m not keeping you from your day, am I?”

He shook his head. “I was only going for a walk to get out of the house. My own company wasn’t cutting it.”

“I know that feeling.” You smiled as he spoke of another similarity you shared and followed him to the kitchen. “I’ll have whatever you’re having, thanks.”

He gestured to the kitchen island where a couple of bar stools were tucked away and you took a seat as you inspected the gorgeous home.

“You look great,” Mac said suddenly as he handed you a glass of orange juice. “I almost didn’t recognise you, you look…happy.”

“Thanks…I think,” you chuckled before taking a sip of the drink.

“No, but seriously. Every time I saw you it looked like you were in pain. I guess you were, I just didn’t know why.” He sat beside you with his own glass and ran his finger around the rim. “So tell me, what have you been doing with your freedom?”

An hour later Max had heard all about your ‘recovery time’ as you had called it and he had smiled proudly as you regaled the adventures you had been on after the initial heartbreak. You had then moved out onto his large terrace to enjoy the afternoon, and it was the perfect spot to sit and watch to see when the road was ready to be reopened.

You were disappointed when the road was almost cleared and it was time to start making your way back down. It had been fun hanging out with Max and actually getting to know him. Whenever you had spoken in the past Charles had always been quick to take you away, his jealousy and possessive nature keeping you from ever getting too close to anyone else.

“Are you sure you have to go?” Max asked as he walked you back to your car and saw your luggage on the back seat. “You only just got here.”

“I know,” you sighed sadly. “I didn’t expect to want to stay longer.”

“Can I at least get your new number?” he asked as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “So I can actually hear how you are doing.”

You grinned as you took his phone and entered the number very few people had. “I’d like that, Max.”

He opened your car door and you surprised him as you threw your arms around his waist but he returned the hug much faster this time.

“I hope I can see you again soon,” he admitted in your ear before he kissed your cheek and stepped back. “I like seeing you happy.”

“Me too.” The smile he had brought to your face would remain there for hours as you slipped into the driver's seat and placed your phone in the holder. “I’ll be waiting for your call.”

He closed the door for you and as you pulled away from the curb your phone rang over the stereo. You could see him in the rearview mirror with his phone to his ear and you hit the answer button.

“Hey,” you greeted with a giggle.

“I didn’t want to keep you waiting…”

Four Years Later.

A dark head of hair disappeared into the narrow alley between motorhomes and you frowned as you waited for another to follow. When three long seconds had passed and no one went after him you darted out of the Red Bull motorhome and into the same alleyway.

Industrial sized power cords littered the floor and hazard signs lined the cladding of the two motorhomes that housed the Red Bull and the Ferrari central hubs. You knew he couldn’t have gotten far as you burst out the other end and into the busy paddock, your eyes scanning the crowds before spotting him weaving aimlessly through the people.

“Jules!” The boy stopped as you called out and he looked around to figure out who it came from. By then you had reached him and placed a hand on his shoulder as you knelt to his height. “Where are you heading, little man?”

“Looking for my father,” he said with tears in his green eyes. He was the spitting image of Charles with his hair and those eyes, it was just like looking at his childhood photos again.

“I can help you, Jules, if that’s alright? My name is Y/N.”

He politely shook your hand that you offered. “How do you know my name?”

“I’ve known your father for a very long time and you look just like him. Come on, I’ll take you to him.”

You fired a quick message to Max letting him know where you were disappearing to since he was expecting to find you in hospitality.

“Do you like racing?” you asked, making small talk along the way.

He nodded eagerly. “I’m going to race for Ferrari when I grow up.”

“I remember another boy who said the same thing, and he did it so I know you can too if you put your mind to it.”

You received a few odd looks when you entered the Ferrari garage but no one stopped you as you weaved through the workshop and tire shelves and eventually found a familiar face.

“Alessandro, have you seen Charles?”

Alessandro’s eyebrows rose at the guest tucked behind your legs before pointing to the room with Charles’ name on it. “Careful. He’s in a bad mood.”

“When isn’t he,” you muttered as you led the way and rapped your knuckles on the door.

“What?”

“Pére!” Jules shouted happily when he heard his father’s voice and the door was torn open.

Charles’ face flashed through a montage of emotions. Shock, confusion, excitement, anger. You watched it all as his eyes darted between you and his son before he recovered and picked Jules up.

“Where’s your mother?” Charles asked, his voice laced with barely restrained anger. “You’re meant to be with her.”

Jules shrugged. “Don’t know, but I want to stay with you. Can’t I stay with you, pére?”

Charles sighed and tucked Jules’ head into his neck so the boy didn’t see his jaw clench or hear his teeth gnash together.

“I found him wandering the paddock looking for you,” you explained as you backed away. “I didn’t see Sapphire anywhere.”

“I’m surprised you even noticed, you’re always so busy with Max.”

You rolled your eyes at the bitterness. Charles had never accepted his situation he got himself into or the fact that you moved on. There wasn’t a conversation where he didn’t criticise the relationship you had with Max which was why you tried to avoid it where possible.

“Maybe you should worry more about your own family and less about mine. There’s 20,000 people in the paddock today, Charles, you should be thanking the fucking stars it was me who found him.” An annoyed sound growled in the back of your throat as he didn’t even blink at your words and you knew sparing anymore would be a waste of breath. “It was nice to meet you, Jules. Goodbye, Charles.”

A hand caught yours as you turned away and you narrowed your eyes at the owner until he dropped it. “Why him?”

In all honesty, the question was three years overdue. Charles had had plenty of opportunities to ask that question in the years since the relationship had gone public and you returned to the paddock, only this time it was in support of Red Bull.

“Do you hate me that much?” he asked when you remained silent.

“I don’t hate you, Charles,” you said honestly. “To hate you would mean feeling something for you, which I don’t. My relationship with Max has absolutely nothing to do with you. Max and I understand each other and we respect each other, it’s a relationship built on trust and it’s healthy.”

“What a load of shit,” Charles snorted and put Jules down on the chair in his room before stepping closer. “You can lie to yourself but you can’t lie to me, bella. You always liked to play these games to make me jealous.”

You stepped out of the room as you saw the dark glint in his eyes, but still he followed you through the garage as his crew watched. There was an edge to him that grown sharper over the years as he spiralled into the hole he found himself in, but so long as his risks paid off on the track no one brought attention to the behaviour.

“This isn’t a game, Charles. Haven’t you learnt that yet?” You reached the fresh air and saw the welcoming red and black colours next door. “You could have lost Jules today. Go and take care of your son.”

An arm curled around your waist and you breathed a sigh of relief and Max kissed your temple. “I was just coming to find you.”

“Why? Worried she came crawling back to me?” Charles challenged with a smirk.

“No, I don’t have to worry about that,” Max laughed before he recovered and looked at you. “We have an announcement to make. Ready, my love?”

You laced your fingers together and nodded, a flutter of excitement rippling through you at the thought. “Ready.”

“What’s the announcement?”

“I’m not going to spoil the surprise,” Max said as he walked you into Red Bull where everyone was waiting. Spotlights were aimed at the two chairs behind a table draped in Red Bull livery and Max pulled your seat out for you, pushing it back in as you sat down. The heat of the spotlights were uncomfortable but you forgot about it when Max kissed you knuckles and gave you a reassuring smile. “No backing out now.”

You chuckled and squeezed his hand that rested on your thigh. “It’s a little late for that.”

The media producer held his hand up and counted down the seconds to the cameras going live. For two people who lived relatively private lives, you were about to make a lot of noise but in a few short months it would be impossible to keep secret anyway.

“The people here at Red Bull have been my family for the past decade and I would not have had the success of winning five championships without their support. I want to thank each and every one of you guys for all the hard work you have done over the years.” Max’s voice started to crack and pulled his hand up higher so it rested against the very slight swell of your stomach.

“This will be my last session in Formula 1,” he said to the camera with a smile. “I will be retiring from racing to start a much more exciting adventure with my wife, as we are having a family of our own.”

A loud cheer erupted through the packed motorhome and Max looked happier than when he was on the top podium as he kissed you in the chaos. “I love you,” he whispered against your lips. “You and our child will never want for anything, I will always be there for you, both of you.”

“I know. I trust you,” you replied as you rested your forehead against his. Max had shown you how love was supposed to be, he had shown you how to trust again. He had kept every promise he ever made, he treated you like a queen and worshipped you like a goddess. You couldn’t imagine a better man to spend the rest of your life with and raise a family with. “I love you, Max. You’re my everything.”

Click here for Charles’ reaction to the announcement.

Click here for Charles’ ending.

#max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 rpf #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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sixosix · 2 years

Text

midoriya izuku: the little shit

no one could’ve possibly guessed it, but midoriya izuku with a crush on someone is the little shit of all the littlest of shits.

yes, you read that right. midoriya izuku—1-A’s angel baby, UA’s golden boy, villain’s magnet, deadly combination of puppy dog and baby kitty eyes—is such a gremlin when he likes somebody.

such an unfortunate turn of events when it turns out midoriya izuku has a crush on you.

it would’ve been better if you didn’t feel the same; you could just turn him down with the cold-hard “you’re fucking cute but i’m not into it”.

but the problem is, you are into it. and you’ve been into it since the day he stumbled into the classroom and ran into you which ended in a mess of limbs that aizawa-sensei walked in on.

you’re into it so much that you’re positive the entirety of class 1-A (and honestly all of the students) have been into it, too, at one point, because you sure as hell can’t be the only victim of the criminally cute criminal with the hero name of deku.

how did you find out about this? it’s pretty simple. and a mind-blowing discovery.

you’re walking down the hall of the dorms, eyes glued to your phone while scrolling through the latest articles about the pro hero hawks—the press plus the laidback douche hero equals entertaining content.

then a gust of air whips past and is aimed right in front of you. it didn’t hurt; it almost tickled. this, of course, as calculated by the evil mastermind, makes you trip.

you’re too shocked to even catch yourself before the floor steals a kiss—not even your hero instincts can help you.

a flash of green; strong and scarred arms; a view of freckles, and suddenly, you’re not falling anymore.

you stare, unimpressed, “good evening, midoriya.”

and midoriya grins, all wide and innocent as if he didn’t air force you into a dip that would’ve been more romantic if you were in a ballroom.

(then again, even in the 1-A-dorms-turned-home, just the sight of midoriya smiling and waving so eagerly at you is what makes you feel like an idiot in love. anything with him is romantic. even doing the dishes because he keeps hip bumping you and cracking jokes.)

“y/n-san! good thing i caught you, huh?” he grins wider when you huff.

once you’re capable of steadying yourself—weak in the knees is what you are—you bat him off and cross your arms to stand before him. “oh, don’t give me that. we both know who’s responsible for what could’ve been a trip to recovery girl.”

midoriya gasps, still so close that you can feel his breath. it dawns on you that he has you cornered onto the walls—and somehow, you’re also into that.

stupid midoriya izuku and his handsomeness.

“y/n-san! i won’t let you get hurt like that!” what should be a sarcastic statement is a genuine confession when it comes out of midoriya’s mouth.

“so you admit you’re the culprit?”

midoriya blushes. it looks good on him. “i’ve been trying to get your attention all day, okay? i was running out of ideas and the day was almost ending— and you were just, on your phone— what? oh! is that the jack-in-the-box villain encounter with hawks?” you pinch his nose to get him back on track. “oh!”

but instead of him knocking your hand away, he holds your wrist and smiles to himself.

you can feel your insides melting.

“midoriya-kun, would it kill you to not have me speak to you for a day even when we’re classmates?”

midoriya actually thinks about it, a sad look on his face, “i don’t think i would like that…”

every cell in your body is reprimanding you for never giving midoriya your full attention the entire day, and midoriya knows it.

“you’re evil, midoriya.”

he grins and steals a kiss on your forehead. “meet me at my room, okay?” he skips away before you can react, the tips of his ears red.

guys. omg. i fucking love izuku so much. but i like it even more when he is just a cunning mastermind with a crush because that shit is hilarious.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha fluff #mha fluff #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha drabbles #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya izuku fluff #deku x reader #deku fluff #izuku midoriya fluff #izuku midoriya imagine

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emelinstriker · 1 year

Text

Nezha ♡ A Special Stranger

Just a short one-shot of how you met Nezha. c:

Also, Honkai: Star Rail came out and now I'm stuck at TL41 with SU World 6 done and am still stuck on FH 11 cuz I only can make one team side work well. Got basically no other content besides that anymore and speedran 3 other accs to TB15 in under 3 hours each out of boredom. I'm a proud E1 Gepard main tho. :D

♡ Part 1 | ♡ Part 2 | ♡ Part 3

♡ ~ Fluff ~ ♡

You actually met your boyfriend on accident. The Monkey King apparently stole a very important item from the Celestial Realm, and said item was being guarded by Nezha. He never told you about what exactly went down, just that he was basically hunting him down for a while over some set of rings.

Either way, he ended up at Lantern City and knew Sun Wukong would be there. But he didn't want to garner attention or cause a scene with all the mortals around, so he slipped into the crowd with a cloak, waiting for an opportunity to confront the Monkey King... Honestly roaming the streets of the city was a little unnerving considering most of the merch they had was related to Sun Wukong in some way...

But then he bumped into you. Or rather, the side of your backpack. You were enjoying your time as tourist and weren't alarmed at his cloaked look. You were able to still see his handsome face after all. "Sorry...", he said before slowly trying to walk away again. However, something told you to strike up a conversation with him, so you did.

"H- Hey! Wait up!" Nezha stopped in his tracks as he turned back around to face you. "Are you a local? Do you know about any sights here other than the giant lantern?"

And that's when you both got caught up in a conversation. Oddly enough, the people around you were loud, yet Nezha had no problem ignoring the sounds to solely focus on you. He didn't seem interested in talking to you at first, mainly due to him being on a mission. But then you brought up the topic of how you were a fan of stories about the Celestial Realm. The way you got excited about this topic piqued his interest... You could tell based on how he suddenly started talking a lot more. You did find it interesting how he knew about even more stories than you though. He even added in more details to moments you only vaguely knew of.

Apparently his talk with you was so fun and distracting that he didn't even notice Sun Wukong suddenly being on stage: Until the pig holding the mic started singing so loud you had to cover your ears. It wasn't exactly the volume itself that got to you, it was mainly just the sudden volume change without warning that hurt. People closer to the stage even seemed to have been blown away by his voice... literally. Nezha took notice of your discomfort and looked over at the stage, now taking notice of the nervously smiling Monkey King. He glared in his direction before making his decision.

The Lotus Prince put one hand on your back and started to lightly push you away from the stage and away from the crowd. "C'mon", he mouthed over the singer's voice as he lead you to a more quiet area. You were still able to hear the stage rather clearly, but your ears were no longer in pain. He made sure you were okay first before telling you that it was getting late and he slowly needed to go. You asked him if you'd see him again, and he couldn't stop himself from smirking.

"As much as I'd love to see you again, I don't think my job allows me to have the time to look for you..." You tilted your head in confusion, prompting him to continue. His mouth formed a straight line. "...Let's just say I'm a guard."

You let out a quiet 'Oh, okay' before your disappointed gaze avoided eye contact. Nezha sighed, placing one hand behind his neck. "Look, you're nice to talk to, but we're both tourists here and would have to part ways anyway. I'm just your average stranger, after all."

Now, that just gave you a funny idea.

You took off your backpack, placing it in on the ground between the two of you before pulling out a cap that was white on the front half and red everywhere else. Afterwards you pulled out one of your pens and started to write on the front. Then you handed the cap to the cloaked Lotus Prince. "Here you go!"

He looked at you in confusion after reading out the words you wrote on it. "(Y/N)'s Special Stranger...?"

"We may have to part ways, but that doesn't mean I can't give you some sort of souvenir... If you think this is kinda funny too, that is. You can just get rid of the cap if you don't want it... I haven't been able to use it much anyway", you commented. However, instead of throwing it away or handing it back to you, the stranger let out a chuckle in amusement.

"Well, it certainly is funny. Thank you, (Y/N). I'll keep it, don't worry", he said as he gave you a small smile. But it was enough to make the rest of your day all the better. However, you decided to ask one last thing with a grin...

"Before you go, what's your name, dear special stranger of mine?"

He rolled his eyes with an amused smile before answering with a name that surprised you, as it seemed very familiar.

"Nezha."

...

"So that's why you're wearing this thing", the Monkey King connected the dots in his mind as he looked at the words written on the Lotus Prince's newfound cap.

He sadly wasn't able to wear it during the time the entire Lady Bone Demon crisis happened, but now he finally got to wear it in peace... for the most part. Because Sun Wukong came to visit him and immediately had to tease him over the obvious claim written on his friend's new hat by a mortal.

The simian gave him yet another smug grin. "Are you going to try see them again? Your lovely stranger~?"

Nezha felt his cheeks heat up as one of his hands moved to lower his cap in the front a bit, seemingly trying to hide his face... and failing. "I already told them I can't. The Samadhi Fire's map may have probably been the most important item I was supposed to guard, but there are still other items I was tasked to watch over."

Wukong's expression then quickly turned into an unamused one. "Seriously? You're not even trying to look for them on the side for like five minutes a day?"

"How would I be able to find them within five minutes? I don't even know where they're from!"

"Fine then! I'll find them for you-" The Monkey King exclaimed before suddenly grabbing Nezha's cap, ripping it off his head before placing it on his own, smiling brightly with his thumbs up. "Take my help as a little gift for your love life. See you in a bit, Nezha!"

The simian then quickly summoned his cloud before zooming off into the skies, leaving a completely red-faced Lotus Prince behind. Whether the red colors came from pure rage or pure embarrassment was hard to tell. It seemed to be more of a mixed case. He cursed under his breath before using his own abilities to go after the monkey.

"SUN WUKONG!!"

> Masterlist <

#lmk x reader #special stranger nezha #nezha x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lego monkie kid #fluff #nezha #ne zha

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starsarefire824 · 1 year

Text

Mike grabs onto Will’s bicep and turns him around, his skin is hot and damp with sweat beneath his touch. When he turns around, half Will’s face is lit up by the spotlights that shine onto the front of the house. It reflects off his still wet hair and it makes the way his eyes shine and the crease of his brow intense and eaten with misery.

“What!” Will shouts, shoving him off and throwing his hands out. “Mike— what do you want?!” - The Push and Pull, The Pact.

.....Mike stops in his tracks, all of his avidity suddenly deflating. He can feel his face screw up in confusion. “What do you mean?” he asks, and he hates the way his tone is cloying and needy.

Will glares at him, his gaze filled with hurt and an intense anger bubbling just beneath the surface. His voice is thick with emotion and Mike can tell he’s trying not to cry. Mike feels at a loss for what to do, how to feel, what to say.

“I don’t know what you want—from me!” He swallows the word and jabs his own chest so hard it seems painful. “I mean— MAX !” The way he says her name is almost a wail as he motions wildly towards the house with his arm and his eyes go wide. He sucks in a rough, snotty breath through his nose, briefly glancing around watchfully before speaking. “You say things like–like we’re a team, you say things like—you look at me like—.”

Will’s face falls, and he swallows again, his mouth suddenly pursed shut, as if realizing whatever it is he was going to tell him is somehow erroneous…or forbidden.

“Mike —-” he starts again, saying his name with frustrated fervor. “What exactly were you trying to tell me earlier? I mean—you’ve just—-” his voice breaks around his words and he pauses to steady it. “You’re constantly pushing and pulling. You say one thing and do another. You’re close and then you’re gone, and I can’t—I kind of just can’t do it anymore.” Will stares at the grass…eyes full of tears now. “I just don’t know—if we’re friends or if we’re something else—-or if maybe we shouldn’t be anything at all.”

Mike doesn’t know what to do. He's frozen and staring at his friend who begs him for some kind of answer he can’t give right now. Because the truth is: Mike doesn’t know why he does the things he does, he doesn’t know why he can’t be honest with himself or Will, the person he’s known since he was five years old. His best friend. Mike doesn’t know what the fuck has happened at this party, and he most certainly does not know what has gone on with Max just now. Mike can’t explain to fucking Will how… he wanted her too, in a way that’s completely separate and different than what he feels for him. He can’t explain to Will that he honestly has no idea who he is or what he wants. That sometimes he feels like he wants everything; wants too much. Sometimes he feels like he’s selfish and greedy and just… built wrong .

“It’s too painful, Mike,” Will says to him then, quieter now like he’s exhausted. He shakes his head and his mouth twists around a sob he tries to stifle. “I think–sometimes—you don’t know me at all. Or maybe you do–and you just ignore it. And I—I’m not sure I can wait for you to figure yourself out—or whatever the hell it is that you're doing.”

“Will,” Mike says, soft and imploring, reaching out for him. He wants to pull him to his chest and whisper into his hair as he hugs him all the things he wanted to say earlier. “ Please —” His plea is broken before it even leaves his lips.

Will shakes his head, pushing his arm away gently with the back of his hand. “Just leave it—” he says, despondent. “I’m going home .”

Mike’s breath leave his lungs and his shoulders fold in on themselves in defeat.

#sad byler hours #byler fanart #the pact #justmyname #byler #madwheeler #elumax #will byers #mike wheeler #will x mike

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jessicaloons · 6 months

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Chapter 24:

Every time you call me crazy I get more crazy

Masterlist - Previous - Next

"You look like shit? Didn’t you sleep?" Daniel’s first words when he walked inside.

"Actually no. I haven’t." I bit back.

"Are you getting sick?"

"No. I just couldn’t sleep. Are you ready? Can we go?"

"Yeah. Just your suitcase and we’re ready to go, but remind me again, why you don’t ask your dad to drive you?" Daniel asked and I sighed.

"Because he and Liam will come on Friday. More driving. Less talking."

"Oh wow you’re really grumpy." he groaned.

"I just need to grab something and then we can go." I said and he nodded.

I opened the bathroom drawer taking out the blue pill packaging and popped one of the pills out, swallowing it dry, when Mum walked in.

"What was that?" she asked curiously and I looked at her.

"Birth control?" I threw the package into my toiletry bag before Mum fished it back out.

"Is it a new packaging?" she looked at it and I shook my head "A new one? Why?"

"The one I was taking won’t be produced anymore? So now I’m taking this one." I said and she read the back of the package.

"Does it have the same hormones and stuff?" she asked and I shrugged my shoulders.

"I don’t know? As long as it’s doing its job." I said but then I took in a deep breath. Awkward.

"I pretend like I didn’t hear that… but Lizzie, switching to a different pill is nothing you should take easy. You might experience some side effects while your body adjusts to the new one? How long are you taking it already?" she sounded really concerned and I took the package out of her hand.

"Taking the last one of this package on Sunday. And it’s the first month with it. And I’m feeling good. No side effects. Can I please go now? This conversation is… weird. Go talk with Sissy about this kinda stuff." I threw the package back in my toiletry bag again and kissed her cheek "I see you in Monza? Before Monza? I don’t even know myself?"

"Yeah we’ll figure it out. But Lizzie, sweetheart? Please keep the side effects in mind! Just in case!" she said and I sighed.

"Yup. I will." I went back downstairs where Daniel still waited "Ready?"

"Ready!" he opened the door for me, taking my duffel bag out of my hand and loading it in the trunk of my car.

As soon as we were inside I took my shoes off and leaned back.

"Can you make it in under 4 hours?" I joked.

"It’s your car. Every speeding ticket I will get is yours to deal with, then yes."

"Go for it!" I closed my eyes. Trying to get at least a little bit of sleep.

Failed attempt.

"Welcome back to the second half of the season, Lizzie! How are you? How was the summer break? What did you do?" Will Buxton asked.

"I am fantastic! Thank you. The summer break was way too short, I could use some more time with my family and friends! But it was also way too long because I can’t wait to get back in my car again! And as for what I did, I spent some time with my family, then a little with my friends and then I focused on getting back in shape. A lot of work outs." I smiled at him and he nodded.

"Lizzie, we know that Spa, after the Nürburgring, is your favourite race track. How excited are you, breezing past this historical track this weekend with an F1 car?"

"You have no idea! I honestly can’t wait to get in the car and just go for it! Race like there is no tomorrow!" I said euphorically.

"What can we expect from Audi this weekend?"

"Our car should work around here quite well, at least on paper. So yeah, I’d say something great!"

"Something great?"

"Oh yes."

P8. Decent. Not more. Not less. Nothing great.

"Lizzie, how was it, driving a Formula one car around this track, racing up eau rouge?" Lawrence Barretto asked.

"Well. After not the best feeling and results on Friday. An okayish Saturday… today was a bit of an up. The car felt better. The race was fun. We maximised our point as much as possible with Valtteri in P7 and me in P8. There wasn’t much more in it for us this weekend."

"You were quite- umm… euphoric, at the beginning of the weekend, in terms of Audi’s performance, what lead to that? And why didn’t the great as you had prognosed happen?"

"Yeah, I had a good feeling and was excited to race again and I let the data fool me a little. I was hoping for a better result, if I’m honest, but we’ll come back stronger next week in Zandvoort."

"Thank you, Lizzie!" one last smile and it was done.

Julie and I walked in silence back and before we reached our hospitality, she pulled me aside.

"Are you okay?" she asked and I nodded, slightly confused "You’re a little- umm how do I put this… you’re a little squeamish this weekend?"

"Squeamish? What do you mean? What? When?" I asked her.

"You were sometimes overly optimistic, the next minute you were… more reserved? Maybe even sensitive? You just were a little off the whole weekend. What ever it is. You know you can talk to me if you need to?"

"Yeah sure, but it’s all good! Really!" I tried to appease her and she nodded, right as Paul bumped into us.

"Oh shit, sorry!" he looked at me and smiled "Oh it’s you, girls. Ready for a waaay to loo long meeting?" he stepped in between us and put his arms around our shoulders.

"Can’t wait…" I mumbled and he laughed.

"You guys go ahead, I have to make a call." Julie walked away.

"The weekend wasn’t too bad, you know?" Paul said and I shook my head.

"I made too many mistakes." I mumbled and he pulled me even closer.

"But P8 is not that bad! Come on! Cheer up a little!"

"It’s okay, I guess?" I sighed and looked up, saw how Charles’ eyes were glued to me, Paul following my look.

"He’s in the second fastest car and struggled, a lot, so I’d say his weekend was worse." Paul laughed loudly and I saw how Charles walked away.

"Very funny." I groaned and we entered the Audi hospitality.

"Oh, come on! I’m just kidding!" Paul rolled his eyes and pulled his arm from my shoulder.

"And always jokes on Charles’ expanse."

Before Paul could answer Pete waved me over and I walked off, thankful to leave this conversation behind. Just this last meeting and then back to the hotel. And then back to Monaco.

"Alright. Run down. Just the flat itself, rank them worst to best." Charles handed me my salad.

"Umm- I don’t know? I have to consider everything not just the flat? The price, the neighbour hood? That one I liked but is on the 5th floor with no elevator? Not so easy!" I sighed, stabbing my salad half-heartedly.

"This way it’s easier? Rank them first and then we’ll talk about the price, the pros, the cons. But we have to start somewhere." he said and I put my bowl down leaning back, closing my eyes "Come on Lizzie, don’t think too much."

"Stop rushing me!" I hissed and Charles looked at me "You think telling me over an over to stop thinking is helpful? It’s not, just so you know!" I sat back up and grabbed my salad, shoving a fork full in my mouth.

"I’m sorry cara mia but you said you want to narrow it down to 2 options today…" Charles said.

"I know! But you… this… uggghhh! I can’t decide, okay?" I looked at my salad and groaned "God I’m so hungry and this salad is just… bland and soggy. I want fries. Or a Pizza. Literally anything is better than this half dead salad."

"Oh. Umm… I made it the way you always make it. Maybe I- I don’t know. Maybe I did something wrong?" Charles said a little dejectedly, grabbing my bowl and getting up. The way his shoulders slumped down made my heart clench.

"Wait! I’m sorry! The salad is fine! It’s good. I’m sorry… I don’t know what’s wrong with me today? Maybe this whole moving to Monaco thing isn’t the right decision? Maybe I should think about it again? I don’t know? Having my own place? That’s a lot of responsibility? I don’t know if I’m ready for that? I mean, I can’t even narrow the list down? Yeah, let’s- let’s don’t do this today? Just forget about it!" I rambled and Charles looked at me confused.

"Are you okay? You’re a little… off?" he asked carefully.

"What? Because I don’t like your salad?" I snapped and clapped my hand over my mouth "I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry! What is wrong with me today?"

"It’s okay, come here." Charles sat down next to me and pulled me into his lap "You’re stressed. It’s a lot going on right now. You’re just a little out of it today." he kissed my temple "Hey! Don’t cry? It’s okay!" he wiped a stray tear away and made me look at him.

"I don’t even know why I’m crying? I was mean to you and now I’m crying? What is wrong with me?" I sniffled a little.

"You have a bad day. We all have them, it’s okay." he kissed my cheek "Tomorrow will be better."

I really hoped that he was right.

Charles POV:

"Why aren’t we flying with Max more often?" Lizzie asked and I chuckled.

"Because we fly with vista most of the time." I answered and she rolled her eyes.

"You mean you fly vista and I have to fly commercial because your team doesn’t want me in their jet anymore…"

"It won’t happen again, okay?" I said and she shrugged her shoulders.

"I’m asking Max in the future. When I live in Monaco I could join him."

"So you still want to move here?" I asked carefully.

"Of course? Why wouldn’t I?" she said and I sighed.

Since yesterday it was a constant up and down. One minute she wanted to move. The next she didn’t. One minute she wanted fries. The next a yoghurt. I seriously was at my wit’s end. Thankfully the car stopped and we got out. Max was waving at us and Lizzie hugged him as soon as we were at the jet.

"Thanks for taking us with you! Ferrari doesn’t want me anymore!" Lizzie said to him and walked up the stairs.

Max looked after her, cocking an eyebrow as soon as he turned to me again.

"Don’t ask. But yeah. Thank you for letting us tag along." I clapped his back.

"No worries mate!" he laughed and we got inside, where Lizzie sat next to Penelope, reading a book with her.

"Hey Charles." Kelly greeted me and I hugged her.

"Hey Kelly, how are you?"

"Good as always." she smiled and sat down in front of Penelope and Lizzie.

I smiled at the little girl, she waved back smiling and then I followed Max to the back of the jet.

"Home race? Excited?" I asked Max and he shrugged his shoulders.

"I mean it’s home. Of course. But last year it proved to be a track I’m doing well so, yeah we’ll see." he said and I nodded.

"I wish I could say that I’ll give you a run for your money… but no. I’m not sure if our car will work there." I chuckled a little.

"I’m sure you’ll still be a pain in my ass."

"I’ll try."

I watched Lizzie intently the whole flight. She played with Penelope. Read her stories about fairies and princesses. Coloured in some pictures with her. And I could swear that I even saw Lizzie wiping away a tear once.

As soon as we arrived and got out of the jet we said goodbye to Max, Kelly and Penelope and headed straight to our hotel.

"I think I’m lying down for a bit." Lizzie came out of the bathroom, already changed into sweatpants and shirt, clutching her stomach.

"Are you okay? You’re a little pale?" I put my hand on her forehead to check her temperature "And you’re a little warm?"

"My stomach is a bit in shambles and I’m tired… but I’m fine, really. Just exhausted." she kissed my cheek and plopped down on the bed, snuggling into the sheets "Wake me up if you want to go out for dinner, or order something, okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Rest a little." I closed the curtains and left the room, right as I received a call from Sylvia. Great. "Sylvia." I greeted her while shutting the balcony door behind me.

"Charles. Tomorrow there are some shoots planned. Mia will send you the exact details later on. Then there is also a dinner tomorrow in the evening, you and Carlos need to attend."

"Okay. Anything else?" I sat down on the bench.

"There is one thing we need to talk about. It’s about Monza. It’s our home race, we have to represent Ferrari perfectly! Ferrari should be the main focus of everything. We can’t have any negative press next week, you understand?"

"You mean Lizzie is supposed to stay silent this weekend? You want me to tell her to not say anything slightly negative about Ferrari?" my annoyance hit the roof.

"Yes."

"I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but last weekend she didn’t say anything… although she was asked a lot…"

"It’s good that she finally complies!"

"She doesn’t have to comply to anything…"

"Charles. This is only about what’s best for Ferrari!"

"Whatever. If that’s all?"

"Yes."

"Ciao Sylvia." I hung up, closing my eyes. After a while I was dozing off.

"Charlie?" Lizzie’s quiet voice made me flinch "I’m sorry." she walked outside, sitting down next to me.

"Hey cara mia, how do you feel?" I pushed a strand of hair out of her face and she yawned.

"Hungry."

"Hungry? What do you want?"

"Fries and a chocolate milkshake."

"Fries and a chocolate milkshake? Are you sure? Your stomach is a little sensitive?"

"I just want something greasy and salty mixed with something sweet."

"Okay. Yeah sure, I’ll order it."

"No, wait… umm just- I don’t know order whatever you want that’s fine."

"I can order you a milkshake and fries? That’s okay?"

"No… I don’t want a milkshake anymore…"

"Cara mia what is it? We can order a milkshake? It’s fine!"

"I know that we can, but I- I only like that fudge brownie chocolate one from KFC…" she mumbled and looked down

"Umm… okay. I’m sure there is a KFC around here somewhere. You go back to bed and I go and get you that milkshake and some fries." I got up, gently pulling her with me.

"Are you sure? I can change and come with you and then we eat there?"

"No it’s okay. You lay back, I get the food."

"Really?"

"Yes! Really! Now hush and relax!" I kissed her forehead and left.

While driving I thought about the last couple of days and my mind always came to one conclusion. The one that made my stomach drop. Was I out of my mind for thinking that? I called the only person I knew who could help me.

"Hi Charles."

"Hey Marta, how are you?"

"Oh you know, some days are good, some days are not so good…"

"Yeah I know, I mean, no I don’t know obviously… but I understand…"

"How’s Zandvoort?"

"It’s nice."

"Okay… any particular reason why you’re calling?"

"Actually yes… what I’m telling you know… just tell me that I’m not going crazy, okay?"

"Umm… sure?"

"The last couple of days… Lizzie was- different. She had terrible mood swings, one minute she’s all giddy and giggly, the next she’s furious and scary and then she’s super emotional and cries… she has an appetite like a bear… wanting to eat literally everything, but then really just eats like a mouse, because her stomach is in shambles how she called it. She’s pale, tired and exhausted, also a little warm oh and now I’m on my way to KFC getting her a special chocolate milkshake and fries… Lizzie hates chocolate ice cream! But a chocolate milkshake is fine all of a sudden? That all sounds like… is she…"

"…pregnant?"

"Oh god. I- I was so thinking that it was just in my head."

"I mean, it sounds really typical, mood swings, exhaustion, weird cravings…"

"What am I doing now?"

"Talk to her? And then you have to decide…"

"I don’t understand it… I mean…" I stopped abruptly.

"You used contraception?"

"Yes! I mean… not always, she’s taking birth control, so yeah…"

"Hmm. Well it can happen. It’s not impossible… but- well it could have another reason, I think, was she like this ever before?"

"No? Why?"

"Well- god this is awkward. I never thought I would have this kind of conversation with you… actually with any other guy besides from Riccardo?"

"Just help me, Marta, please I’m freaking out!"

"Some girls are like this when they’re on their period. But if she was never like this before? Then yeah…"

"Really? I thought it’s just being moody and having cramps… although yeah, Lizzie never had anything like that?"

"You said she’s taking birth control? prevent you from going through all the troubles us girls are doomed with in this horrible week we have to experience every month."

"I’m sorry."

"Why are you apologising? It’s not like it’s your fault?" she laughed.

"I don’t know. Sorry."

"So. What are you going to do now?"

"Bringing Lizzie her food. And then try to talk to her?"

"Yeah… I guess that’s the only thing you can do… if you need someone to talk later on, you can call me, okay? Anytime."

"Thanks Marta. Really!"

"No worries, Charles. Take care."

"You too, on both of you!"

"I will."

Fucking hell.

I watched Lizzie eat and sip on her milkshake, thinking about how to approach the topic. How do you ask your girlfriend if she’s pregnant?

"Thank you Charlie." she kissed my cheek while happily munching on her fries.

My palms were sweaty. I had to just ask her. That’s all I could do. Ask her. Talk to her.

"Lizzie? Can we talk?" I asked and she looked up, nodding "How do I put this? Umm- the last days… you’ve been a little…"

"Overly emotional? Squeamish?"

"Yeah?"

"I know… and I’m so sorry! I have no idea why!"

"You don’t?" I asked carefully and she cocked an eyebrow.

"No? Why would I?"

"Okay. Cara mia, you know that I love you, right? And whatever happens, we’re in this together, okay?"

"What are you even talking about?"

"Mood swings, weird cravings, stomach bug, exhaustion? Lizzie… I think you’re pregnant." I waited for her reaction. Waited for the realisation to hit her. Settling in. Her expression changing. And I expected everything… but not her throwing her head back laughing. Tears rolling down her cheeks. Wheezing.

"Pregnant?" she breathed out, clutching her stomach.

"Why are you laughing? The way you acted these past few days?" I looked at her puzzled.

"Charlie! I’m not pregnant! I’m on birth control!"

"It’s still possible!"

"Yeah maybe, but I’m definitely not pregnant!"

"What makes you so sure?"

"Hmm. I don’t know? Maybe my period that started today?" she chuckled a little, sipping on her shake.

"Okay? But why… why are you so emotional?" I felt stupid. Confused.

Lizzie looked at me for a while, then she groaned and got up, returning a moment later with a small blue package.

"Oh how I hate it when she’s right."

"Who? What do you mean?"

"Mum! She saw that it’s a different one! And she warned me that there could be side effects!"

"I have really no idea what you’re talking about?"

"I’m taking new birth control pills for a month now! Mum said it could be that while my body adjusts to the new pills I would go through some side effects!"

"Oh."

"Oh indeed."

"Will you now always be like this?" I almost whispered it.

"God, I hope not? I was never like this? I can’t do that once a month! I can’t turn into this monster? I mean? Charles, I was driving myself crazy with how I acted!" she panicked a little and I held her hand and squeezed it.

"You weren’t that bad!" I tried to reassure her.

"I was! I was a crazy bitch! I definitely have to speak with my doctor about it as soon as I’m back home!"

"Okay, yeah, do that!"

We sat in silence for the next minutes, both lost in our thoughts. And although the thought of having a baby with Lizzie was something I definitely wanted, it was a thought for the future. Something we had yet to talk about. For now, I was relieved. A pregnancy now, would’ve meant that Lizzie had to give up her dream she fought so hard for. All the sacrifices, the hours of hard work, the blood, sweat and tears. The horrible treatment of the media over the past months. It would’ve been all for nothing. And that would’ve been unfair.

"Charles?" Lizzie patted my arm and I looked at her "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Sure. I’m just… I’m relieved that we solved the mystery of your umm-…"

"Unstableness?" she laughed and I rolled my eyes.

"You weren’t that bad! I mean… you did insult my salad, which I thought tasted not too bad, so yeah maybe unstable is the right word."

"The salad was good! Really! I never experienced something like that. I hated everything in that moment, including myself. What a cliché. Girl on her period gets grumpy and whiney and has weird cravings?"

"A little, yes. And that’s all because you switched the pills?"

"Mum said it could happen. I didn’t expect it to be like this to be honest."

"But you never had it before? Does that mean that… umm did the old one- god why is this so weird?"

"Talking about birth control pills and my period? Well… if you think it’s weird for you? Imagine how I feel…" and she was right. I just realised now, how flushed her cheeks were.

"Okay. This shouldn’t be this awkward. It’s normal, right? I know what happens during your- period. It’s a natural thing. You’re my girlfriend. We’re grown ups, we can talk about it."

"I guess so."

"Did you always take birth control? I know you since we’re 8. I never saw you acting like this?"

"I had my first period with 14 almost 15. Actually a little later than anyone I knew. But because of the racing I asked Mum even before I had it the first time if I could take birth control to regulate or no, the better word would be schedule, it. She was a little hesitant but we went to a gynaecologist and I explained why I wanted it and it was okay. So yeah I always took it, for 10 years now and it’s always perfectly scheduled."

"I didn’t know that you can schedule it? So you always have it on the same days?" I was genuinely curious.

"I take the pills for 21 days. Then wait for 7 days and then take the next 21 pills. One package consists of 21 pills. And in that break in between I have my period."

"And your pill always took care of the side effects of a period?"

"Yep. And I really hope this one does as well. I mean as soon as my body adjusts to it."

"Okay. Now I’m well informed." I chuckled a little and pulled Lizzie closer, her cheeks still slightly read "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it’s just… I don’t even really talk with Mum about these kinda things? With Shima maybe, but yeah that’s it. But now with you? I guess I didn’t expect that?"

"Me neither, but it’s okay, no?"

"Weirdly yes?" she giggled a little and I kissed her temple "Shower, bed, movie?"

"Sounds good!"

After our last meeting I waited for Seb to leave his hospitality and waved him over.

"Lizzie, how are you?" he hugged me and I smiled.

"I’m good! You? How’s Hanna and the kids?"

"Oh you know us. All good."

"Yeah!" I chuckled a little nervously.

"So what is this secret little meeting about?"

"You remember that Spanish blogger? Journalist? Whatever? Yeah? I know he’s banned… but… can that ban be lifted?"

"Why? He was banned for 10 races, not 4."

"I know. It’s just that… I shouldn’t have give him this much attention! I should’ve just stand my ground! Ignore him. Be the bigger person. Show everyone that I don’t back down no matter what they’re throwing my way!"

"I don’t know Lizzie. There is a line when it’s just not tolerable anymore and he was crossing that quite a lot, especially after that article."

"I know. Sorry. I should’ve thought about that. Never mind."

"Is everything okay, Lizzie?"

"Yeah sure. I just wanted to, you know, held my head up and show the world that I don’t care about what they’re saying. Anyone. So having Diaz back here would be a good start. I’ve seen him ranting about how he got banned because of the article and many people said it’s only because I’m an emotional and sensitive girl that the FIA decided this… would something like this come up about another male driver they wouldn’t even react…"

"But you know it’s not true, right? Sure, the inappropriate questions he was asking was one of the reasons but that article played an even bigger part."

"Okay… thank you. I mean for yeah everything."

"I will talk with someone, maybe there is a way we can reduce the ban? Under certain conditions… I will let you know!" he hugged me and then left.

Back in my driver room I opened up Instagram and clicked on the family holiday dump. s.d.esp. That comment. I knew it was him. I could literally feel it. I opened a DM.

I talked to someone to lift your ban. I tried my best. The decision is out of my hands. The article was the main reason for the ban.

I watched the three dots anxiously. It felt like hours when the dots finally disappeared. And two words appeared.

Try harder.

"You’re quiet?" JK asked and I shrugged my shoulders.

"I’m focused."

"Okay, if you say so…"

"Yup."

We were warming up for quali and my stomach was still in turmoil. It was cramping like never before. Leaning against a wall I took a deep breath, watching how Andrea and Charles played football a couple of metres away. I picked up my jump rope and began again when Paul walked out with something to drink.

"Here."

"Thanks." I grabbed the bottle and took a sip before putting it down and warming up again, when a sharp pain in my lower stomach made me flinch "Fuck." I groaned.

"Are you okay?" Paul asked, grabbing my arm and I nodded "You’re pale?"

"I’m fine. I think I ate something bad." I mumbled and he stroked my arm up and down "I’m good. Really!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yep. I just need to warm up now. Need to focus." I grabbed the jump rope, that I dropped before and began my routine. JK coming back with a ball.

"Two sets and you’re done."

"Yeah."

I watched how Paul sat down on a box, his back to Charles and Andrea, who were still playing football. It didn’t even take 10 seconds for the ball flying through the air, hitting Paul in the back, making him jump up.

"Oooops! Sorry! Can you pass me the ball, please?" Charles shouted, a big grin on his face.

Paul mumbled something and threw the ball back, sitting back down on the box, right as the ball came flying back, hitting the back of his head. I could clearly see the anger rising in his face when Charles jogged over, casually picking up the ball, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I’m really sorry, mate! I guess now we now why I’m not a football player!" he chuckled and walked back to Andrea and I saw them high five.

"I go back to our garage, before he uses me as target again." Paul seethed and left.

"That was purely intentional…" JK laughed and I sighed a little.

"Yeah… probably."

"Good. Paul needs to back the hell off. I don’t know how many signals you already sent him to leave you alone, he doesn’t seem to get it."

"Uh-huh." I felt another wave of pain.

"Okay. What is going on? You’re in pain. I’ve seen it the past days every then and now? What’s going on?" JK took the jump rope out of my hand and pushed me down on the box.

"Nothing serious…"

"Care to share?"

"No."

"Hey cara mia, are you okay?" Charles stood in front of me.

"Yeah… it’s…" I sighed and pointed at my stomach and he looked at me confused but then he understood.

"Oh okay? Still?" he sat down next to me and I leaned against him.

"It sucks. I feel hot and my suit is like it’s too tight on me. God I hate it."

"You sure you can drive?" he whispered and I nodded.

"I have to. But I need to focus. I need to set my fastest lap at my first try."

"Can you just focus on driving safe?"

"I’ll try."

"Lizzie."

"Hey, that’s more than enough. I can’t do more right now!"

"Okay. Now come on. It’s almost time." he jumped down from the box and helped me get off.

Q1 was fine. No cramps. No nothing. But right as I started setting a time in Q2 another cramp made me flinch and I under steered. Knowing that correcting my mistake would cost some time, I decided to abort the lap.

"I need another out lap and then try again."

"Copy. Tyres looking good."

"Okay."

I inwardly cursed. I definitely had to talk to my doctor back home. I never felt this uncomfortable in the cockpit. The heat was abnormal and the pressure of the g forces, never a problem before, made me feel like my body could burst at any minute. But I had to work through it. I couldn’t let this stop me. I rounded the last corner and accelerated. Focus. I could do that. No matter what happened.

"That’s currently P3. Good job."

"Who’s still on track?"

"Charles, Max, Perez, Norris, Hamilton."

"Okay. I’m coming in."

"Alright."

I made it into Q3 and was ready to set a time. Determined to not let anything stop me, a red flag crashed all my hopes.

"That’s P6, Lizzie."

"Is Lando okay?"

"Yes, he is."

"Alright. Good job, guys."

I jumped out of the car, ready to get rid off my suit, which felt so uncomfortable. I shrugged out of it, rolled it down to my waist.

"You’re sweaty…" JK looked at my soaked fireproofs and I sighed.

"I feel like I’ve been in a sauna for hours. I need a shirt or something."

"Here’s a hoodie."

"Thanks."

As soon as I changed into the hoodie Julie picked me up for the interviews.

I walked back to the pits, shaking my head in disbelief. Helmet still on. Not even 2 laps in and my race was already over. After an amazing start, overtaking George and Carlos right at the start, the latter was retaliating with a risky move, slashing my whole side pod open, forcing me to retire the car. I watched as some cars used the safety car to pit early and sighed. I felt good today. After the last 3 days full of cramps and just don’t feeling like myself in the car, today was a good day. I was confident to achieve a good result, maybe even a podium today, and that start just proved me right.

"I’m sorry, guys. Maybe I didn’t leave him enough space?" I said as I walked up to the Audi pit wall, hugging Felix.

"You couldn’t do anything to prevent it. He drove straight into you. It’s under investigation."

"Okay."

I thanked my mechanics and the rest of the team and went straight to my interviews. Just to get it over with.

"Sorry again, Lizzie. More luck next week in Monza, hopefully!" Rachel Brookes from SkyUK waved me goodbye and I forced a smile.

"I go and change, then I’ll be back in the garage." Julie only nodded and left me alone. I changed and grabbed my phone, returning to the garage, where I grabbed a headset and sat down, watching the race. Charles did well, he didn’t struggle as much as he anticipated it. He battled with George more than once, switching between P2 and P3. Unfortunately Valtteri had to retire his car in lap 55 due to an . And our garage went dead silent. No one spoke, we all just watched how a mad Valtteri returned back to the garage, thanking the whole team, plopping down next to me. I patted his back and he sighed.

"Not the best weekend for us."

"Nope absolutely not." I chuckled bitterly and watched how Charles came closer to Max, but George also closer to Charles. Another lap gone as Charles reported that his tyres were gone and he was right, he slipped around the track and I wished the race was over every couple of seconds. And when it finally was, Max had won his home Grand Prix, with George in P2 and Charles in P3.

"Hey Lizzie." Joris hugged me when I joined him, waiting for Charles "Sorry about your race."

"Don’t worry, it’s okay." I said and he put his arm around my shoulder.

"Next week in Monza you’ll be back on the podium."

"If you say so!" I laughed and he squeezed my shoulder, right as Charles parked his car and got out.

"I know so!" Joris said, determined and I nodded.

"Okay. I believe in your words!"

Charles thanked his team when he saw me, taking his helmet off and Joris pushed me right into him.

"Good job, Charlie!" I smiled and he pulled me into him.

"I’m so sorry that your race ended this early, cara mia." he whispered and I nodded "Are you okay? Did you crash out?"

"No?" I sighed, he didn’t know what happened "I had to retire because my side pod was slashed open…" he pulled away, looking at me with big eyes.

"What happened?"

"Umm… I overtook George and Carlos right at the start and- well when Carlos had the chance to overtake he drove straight into me." I could see the wheels turning in his head, his look changing from confusion to anger.

"I had no idea…" he began but I shook my head.

"It doesn’t matter, it’s done! You go celebrate your P3 now! Come on!" I cheered him on and he hugged me before he walked off.

"It sucks, sure, but it is what it is." I sighed and Charles shook his head.

"It’s unfair! He didn’t even get a penalty? He went straight into you!" Charles was pacing back and forth "I honestly don’t know why he targets you all the damn time? What did you do to him?"

"I was honest? Criticised the team for favouring him in races where they shouldn’t have? I don’t know and I don’t care…"

"Lizzie… I don’t want you guys ruining each other’s races over and over again…" he sighed and sat down next to me.

"I never did anything! Tell him!"

"I already did! But I will have a talk with him again… this is getting out of hand."

"Next weekend is Monza. He will try everything to leave me behind…"

"Yeah. Monza."

"Don’t worry. I will only say nice things about Ferrari." I rolled my eyes.

"Lizzie…" he began but I leaned into him, putting my head on his shoulder.

"It’s okay, I really try my best to not say anything… I did it last week, I did it this week, even after your teammate ended my race, next week I’ll just do the same."

"I hate asking that of you." Charles sighed and kissed my head.

"You’re not asking for it, I’m just doing it… I know how Ferrari works. I don’t want to get you into trouble."

"What did I do to deserve you?" he whispered and I laughed and sat up, looking into his eyes.

"You’re the perfect guy, that’s what you did!" I kissed his cheek.

"Oh come on!" he laughed "When I’m the perfect guy, then you’re the perfect girl!"

"Probably not but okay." Charles rolled his eyes and pulled me into him.

"I just want this day to be over and fly back home, have a nice and relaxing day with you before the Monza madness starts." he whispered against my neck.

"Me too."

"I don’t want to leave you. I want to stay here. Stupid meeting."

"It will be alright. Come on. Off you go." I laughed and he groaned but got up.

"Okay. But only if I get a kiss." he sighed dramatically and I chuckled, cupping his cheeks and pulling him closer.

"If you insist." I sighed and put my lips onto his pillowy ones. He kissed me softly and I smiled into our kiss.

"Now I have the energy to leave…" he kissed my nose and straightened his back "I’ll pick you up." I nodded and he left.

After a couple of moments I got up as well, when I saw someone approaching me cautiously. As soon as I saw who it was, I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes.

"Lizzie." her voice overly sweet.

"Sylvia, how can I help you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why would you be lurking around behind the Audi hospitality if you’re not looking for me?"

"I’m not lurking around. I was looking for Charles."

"You just missed him."

"Good."

"Good." I said and turned a little, but she didn’t move "Just say whatever you have to say."

"Next weekend is important for us. Our team. As well as our drivers."

"I’m aware."

"We can’t have negative media attention."

"Wouldn’t be too good for you."

"So you agree?

"Agree?"

"That you shouldn’t be criticising Ferrari at this special weekend?"

"Ahhh, now we get to it. You want me to stay silent."

"Yes."

"You know, if Ferrari won’t fuck up, I will stay silent. It’s as easy as that." before she could reply I walked away.

I wouldn’t say anything about Ferrari, for Charles, I knew how much Monza meant to him. But Sylvia didn’t need to know that.

Little Note:

Chapter 24 - Well, nothing special happened here. I had some anons regarding my chapter length, so I tried to keep it a little shorter than usually this time. I also was asked about how and if Lizzie’s period would affect her on a race weekend. So I tried to bring it in a little. I googled a little and also talked with friends about well their period 😅 as someone who never had any issues at all, I had to find some sources 🤷🏻‍♀️

Next chapter: MONZA…

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